


A Tired Elf

by Mamma_Dragon



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I will add more tags as it gets on, M/M, Multi, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, characters are slightly ooc but its skyrim so, do note that the miraak x oc thing wont happen into later, gotta wait~, i swear it will get fluffy in the end i promise, toxic thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamma_Dragon/pseuds/Mamma_Dragon
Summary: One would think that running away from your past life and literally changing your face would make your new life easier right? Well if you insist on befriending ancient liches and dragons life is going to be very...interesting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also! Credit to the dragon name goes to @bisexual-brynjolf in tumblr! :DD and @zokwani from here!
> 
> Dovahzul translations at the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello! Some of ya may notice that chapters 1-4 may be a bit different, that's because they weren't beta read and weren't up to my standards of quality but I was too busy to edit them...until now
> 
> It's mostly tightening up some continuity errors, fixing up dialogue and stuff like that. No plot differences!

The mountains were beautiful this time of year; rolling hills, melting snow, blooming flowers, and freezing winds. Despite spring setting it’s footprint into Skyrim, Elyden tugged his furry hood closer to his face to shield from the chilly air that was quite common in the country. Though he was born in the hot beaches of the Shivering Isles, the elf adored the cold winters of Skyrim that swept throughout the lands. But over four decades of living here made him practically immune to the harsh weather and unforgiving conditions that at times made him yearn for the warm beaches. But the second he steps into the Pale with the giant mountains greeting him with their warm snow, he realizes he’s at home 

Breathing into the crisp morning air, the evaporation escaped his lips and formed into a small cloud as Elyden steadied himself onto the cliffside’s juniper trees. He glanced at his map that the stubborn wind tried to snatch away from him that, according to the Dragonstone he and Farengar stubbornly translated, there should be an ancient dragon’s burial ahead. In which the wizard has sent him to do the dirty work of finding one, though Elyden didn’t really mind honestly. 

Elyden had been studying the Dragon Cult for practically his whole life now, learning the languages and nearly every Nordic Tomb’s locations just to see history that was burnt during The Rebellion. He’d do anything to speak to more dragon priests, or even a dragon! Even for a moment...To ask his burning questions, to see if his pronunciations of dovahzul was proper, to see if his notes on the tombs were accurate. Or just in general to have a chat. 

Elyden was about to climb down the large mountain until he heard a large screech that made his skin crawl. Placing a hand on his elven sword, the altmer brushed a stray bang of dark brown hair behind an ear as he glanced at the soft blue skies. Waiting a good second to dismiss it as another saber cat, another one shook the crumbling hills and ancient nordic totems; much closer. He looked up to the sky and saw an oddly shaped black spot in the clouds and frowned in confusion as the spot grew larger and larger...until he realized that wasn’t a spot. 

He scrambled into a hole between some heavy rocks as the gargantuan beast flew right over him and around the burial. Despite being hundreds of feet above Elyden, he still felt the strong heavy gusts of wind from those long angled wings. 

Carefully crawling out of his spot, Elyden took a good look at the beast and looked at those dull red eyes with no irises, the enormous claws that were as large as him, the sharp scales that worked more as spears and the thick drooling fangs that were as long as his arm. A dragon. In the flesh.

Elyden felt ecstatic! A real dragon! Possibly the sign of the end times, but a real breathing dragon! It might even be the ones he read in an old dragon priest’s lectures, Alduin the First Born of Akatosh from the metal-like scales and veiny wings.

Elyden wanted to rush down and greet the being but decided against having a painful demise so he instead took out his sketch pad that hung around a belt with pouches and potions. He struggled to get a good look at Alduin who was circling around like crazy at the mostly covered burial but got a basic sketch of the beast. It wasn’t accurate with the proportions but it was enough of a start despite his coal pencil snapping in half from the pressure. 

The dragon was speaking quickly and incoherently in what Elyden assumed was dovahzul but he couldn’t translate anything besides ‘Time’ and ‘Servant’. Alduin hovered above some ancient juniper trees that grew on top of the burial, so the dragon simply drew back his breath, mawl dripping with smoke and spat out a quick burst of fire. In an instant, the berry trees that once held a generation of squirrels, they were nothing more than ash. 

Elyden watched in awe, Alduin had barely moved his lips and already wiped the surrounding shrubbery as if it were nothing. He jittered in his spot and tried to get a closer look, but his foot slipped on some rocks and he slid into Alduin’s view. The Dragon stopped his speech and glanced over to the elf, narrowing his red eyes as they dulled into a soft glow. Even with the metal like-scales, Elyden could see the creature’s expression shift into...something. 

“Dovahkiin.” That simple word sent shivers down Elyden’s spine, he couldn’t look away from Alduin’s red eyes. He wasn’t entranced, he was fascinated. “Ful hi los yun gein do daar bok.” As if in that moment, something opened within Elyden. He could feel something inside him _ twist _ and _ turn _ and spread its wings _ . _ He could feel a certain understanding with Alduin, a kinship. Odd...

Elyden’s carefully crawled out of his hiding spot, going back up at the cliff to get a good look at the giant beast that easily could have crushed him with a fingernail. Alduin’s words were just slow and loud enough for him to translate, which just leads to more questions rather than answers.

“What do you mean ‘Dragonborn’?” Elyden asked, struggling to find the proper word structures to speak back in dovahzul. “Are you Alduin? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” 

“Hi genun nid faas ko teyn do dii nuvah, joor?” The dragon crashed on top of the cliffs, casting a large shadow over Elyden as the sun was blocked out completely from his shere size. “Meyus uv ni, Zu'u frolok amativ koraav hi ahney veyr uv tuld.” A puff of smoke spilled out of his mawl as he straightened up his neck and drew his attention to the burial.

The elf quickly took out his notebook to try to write down the translations. Fear? Mortal? Bloom? Alduin spoke too quickly for Elyden to process properly, suppose that all of his practice with the priests were all for naught. But what did they mean? Elyden wished he had more to piece together and maybe actually speak himself in the proper language that he had so long studied.

His train of thought was interrupted as an ear piercing Shout pushed him onto the rocky grass. Elyden hastily rubbed the dust off his eyes as he clambered back up to his feet. As soon as the film dispatched he watched giant bones clawing out of its ancient tomb as muscle and tissue twisted around the wings and claws. A large skull burst through the earth with a scream for air before crawling out as a golden light bound it’s skin and scales to it’s large body. 

“Alduin, thuri!” A garbled booming voice echoed throughout the lands and shook the mountains. “Hi lost daal wah kuz zek hin rel?” Their muddy brown scales glistened in the sunlight as they gazed upon Alduin with their green eyes with admiration.

“Geh, Geinziinsed, kaali mir.” Alduin cooed with pride as he took one last calculated look at Elyden. The size of his wings that were as dark as an empty night sky forced the cliff’s large stones to crumble and trees to fragment as he took to the clear skies. “Kill the mortal.”

Quickly scammering back up the hill, he struggled to collect his thoughts and not fall to his death as he tumbled throughout the grassy lands and sharp stones. Return, reign, ally were the words that stuck to him during the conversation. But ‘Kill this mortal’ was sweet and simple and gave him just enough time to escape the brown dragon’s hungry roars. 

Elyden scattered out the way as Geinziinsed spat a heavy stream of fire, struggling to move as their body was still piecing itself together from thousands of years of slumber. Now, Elyden may not really know much about dragons, but he knew how to run. And run he did!

Blood pumped into his ears as he dared to glance back, only to see Geinziinsed have climbed over the cliffs and prancing towards him like an excited saber cat. It seems like their wings are nothing but dead weight at this point as many scales and nerves were still knitting together. Just ahead of Elyden was just empty land and an old fortress that was once a powerful temple of the ancient nords that had nothing more but totems and pillars with no one around for miles.

Sliding behind a sloped rock that was wrapped in juniper trees, Elyden struggled to catch his breath as the powerful howls of the awakened dragon shook the land itself. To the point that the fortress’ fragile structure quivered, a small idea sparked in his head...A dumb one, but an idea nevertheless.

“It has been many millennia since I last _ feasted _ on a joor, elf!” Geinziinsed gleefully laughed as Elyden ran up the mossy steps to the fortress who shot a bolt of fire at their snout that did _ nothing _ to the beast. They cackled and once again tried to take flight but instead stumbled upon their own fragile feet, nearly tripping over their own malformed tail. Cursing, they instead screamed a ball of flames at Elyden as he managed to hide behind a totem.

The boiling hot flames of the dragon wrapped around the pillar and touched Elyden’s cloak that barely caught on fire due to it’s heavy enchantments. His heart was pounding out of his chest and he didn’t have to look to know that the dragon was right below them. It seems that the temple was too much for the dragon’s unsteady body, thank the Divines...

“Are you going to make it easy for me, elf?” Geinziinsed sneered as they struggled to climb up the high stairs, even scraping their overworked wings and chipping a claw. “Or do I have to take my time roasting you alive like the mahkur do slen you are?”

Elyden hastily looked at the totem he hid behind. It easily towered over him twelve times over, the carvings of old stories barely seen through the vines and chisels. But most importantly, it wiggled more and more out of its place as Elyden shifted in his spot as Geinziinsed Shouted another spurtling stream of fire. The elf waited for the flames to die down around him and took a quick breath before pushing as hard as he possibly could in his lanky body against the statue. It barely budged despite Elyden’s desperate exertions and his blood pumping more adrenaline into his veins.

“Are you trying to push that small stone over me?” Geinziinsed boomed in cruel amusement as they stopped their onslaught of fire to laugh. “Hefahus fahliil!”

Elyden shoved himself back and pressed his scraped hands together as he focused all of his magicka into a single spell. An angry red fireball burst from his shaking palms and hurled itself through the stubborn totem. But it wasn’t enough, he needed a stronger push. He cursed as something burnt on the tops of his throat as he—

“_ FUS _ !” The word erupted out of his lips and burnt his tongue as a heavy _ thunderclap _ sliced through the totem’s base and cracked into thousands of pieces.

He scattered out of the way and covered his head as the pillar finally _ crashed _ onto Geinziinsed’s bones. A horrific screech of pure horror and agony shattered the fortress around Elyden and he jumped down the stairs to take nearby cover as the ancient temple collapsed on top of Geinziinsed’s weak wings and body. 

The elf didn’t stop cowering until the dragon finally stopped moving and instead began to _ whimper _ ...He carefully stepped out of his spot and glanced at the giant pile of rumble, he wouldn’t have ever guessed it was once a grand center for a town. Keeping a hand over his sword, he stepped around the giant bricks as only parts of the beast were seen through the debris of their own monument pinning them to the earth. Elyden gripped onto his elven hand and curled his other hand into a fireball as he managed to find where the head was. It barely poked out, broken teeth were bleeding through the gums and worn scales were torn off, they were quivering in _ fear. _ ..Of _ him. _

“Not another!” Geinziinsed’s shakey green eyes stared at Elyden with a hint of horror before it morphed into pure _ rage _as they violently struggled to move with both of their wings’ bones shattered into dust. “It’s too early!”

“Fos dreh hi seik-”

“Don’t you _ dare _ speak in _ my _ tongue, mortal!” Geinziinsed snapped as they twisted against the heavy rocks, bearing their teeth that tore apart their lips and forked tongue. “You are _ never _ worthy of even _ thinking _in my tongue!”

Elyden gave a shaky sigh as the adrenaline faded from his system, allowing for his head to think once again without the immediate fear of his life. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, but he knew he didn’t have time to ponder on it. Pinned or not, this Geinziinsed is still a beast hungry for mortal flesh even with their wings clipped and bones broken. 

The elf pulled out his sword of it’s leather sheath, feeling the heavy regret pull at his chest. A different kind of guilt pondered in his gut, not the kind for just killing a piece of history he craved, but something of...kinship. 

Geinziinsed’s eyes dilated and struggled harder against their trap, choking on their own boiling blood as they tried to snap at Elyden, despite him being just far enough to be safe from their jaws.

“Zu'u lost kosaan nunon daal wah daar lein!” Geinziinsed cried out as part of their shoulder managed to break through the barrier, once glistening once fresh brown scales now are gory and feeble. With the sudden burst of freedom, they managed to wiggle more room out and drew in a breath to Shout.

Elyden plunged his golden blade through the dragon’s eyes, struggling to twist around in the brains before Geinziinsed finally fell limp and silent. He held his breath as he waited for them to awake once again and burn him alive. All he got was cold blood and fluids staining his gloves. 

Slowly pulling his sword out of the socket, the altmer felt disgusting as the giant dragon of old slumped over with their beady empty eyes staring right into him. Instead of feeling a reasonable guilt, he felt...satisfied. Disgusted with himself, Elyden turned around and leaned against the crumbled fortress next to Geinziinsed’s head that was as long as his own body, waiting for his heart to stop pounding and to rationally think of what happened and why. Before he could even be granted such a luxury, the brown dragon’s scales began to shimmer and glow amidst the muddy gore and dirt. Elyden quickly shot a fireball at their snout and slashed his sword across their other eye, only to see that the dragon was still as lifeless as they were in their tomb earlier that day. 

The scales began to peel off their skin in a pleasant fire-like radiance, taking the muscle and nerves along with them. Instead of running away or preparing for another fight, Elyden stepped closer, rubbing his shaky hands against the nostrils as a rainbow of colors leaked through the heavy stones and wrapped around his chest and arms. Feeling a wave of calm wash over his nerves, he felt nothing more than a slight surprise as the skull was licked clean of any flesh and hide as if it was normal. He casually pulled his arm away from the skeleton, watching the glow seep into his skin and fixing all of the scraps and burns as if they weren’t there. Placing a hand on his stomach, he watched as the sky blue and radiant yellow twist past his robes as if it was nothing. 

“Huh.” Elyden steadied his numb head and overworked body as his eyes cleared from the tears. A sudden hit of old memories—no, they _ couldn’t _ be his! He never hunted mammoths by flinging them into the sky! He never watched in glee as a person in beautiful robes squirmed under his claws! And he _ certainly _never set a village to the torch for not bringing him enough tribute! But it felt like his...Elyden could not remember a time in which he had not taken to the stars and roared for the storms to be clear. The altmer glanced up at the cloudless sky and struggled to remember those very words. It was on the tip of this tongue that still hurt from his—

“Holy shit.” Elyden wrapped his arms around his empty stomach and carefully looked at Geinziinsed’s smoking skeleton; picked clean of any dirt and blood with the crumbled totem over their cracked neck. He absorbed a soul and Shouted...He Shouted. He fucking _ Shouted _! And he didn’t get his throat torn out like the previous time he tried! 

“FUS!” The elf instinctively yelled to the sky, feeling much more natural and his body stumbled a bit less. The nearby birds quickly flew away, some even were thrown across the horizon a couple feet. 

“Dear Aur-iel what was that?” Elyden coughed in his parched throat as he struggled to think of this _ logically _. He had consumed a dragon—in theory, and Shouted. Really he had no real idea of what happened. He heard Alduin mention Dragonborn but at him? Weren’t all the Dragonborns dead and nords? He never saw any records of any Dragonborn being elvish or just in general non-human?

His thoughts were interrupted as a loud thunderclap shook the hills and land as a Shout from what seemed to be the heavens screamed:   
  
“ _ DO VAH KIIN!” _

Elyden instinctively glanced at the far distance to where he knew he was being summoned to the Throat of the World. How did he know that? He wasn’t sure. But if he was to get answers on this entire ordeal, it wasn’t here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ful hi los yun gein do daar bok : So you are new one of this age
> 
> Hi genun nid faas ko teyn do dii nuvah, joor? : You show no fear in front of my presence, mortal?
> 
> Meyus uv ni, Zu'u frolok amativ koraav hi ahney veyr uv tuld : Foolish or not, I look onward see you either bloom or tumble
> 
> Hi lost daal wah kuz zek hin rel? : You have returned to take back your reign?
> 
> Geh, Geinziinsed, kaali mir : Yes, OneTwoThree, my trusted ally
> 
> mahkur do slen : pile of flesh
> 
> Hefahus fahliil! : Idiotic Elf!
> 
> Fos dreh hi seik : What do you mean
> 
> Zu'u lost kosaan nunon daal wah daar lein! : I have been just returned to this world!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyden doesn't process the fact that he is a Dovahkiin until weeks later because he was too excited about the dragons

“Holy shit Farengar!” Elyden burst into his lab to where the wizard was busy talking to some hooded lady that he had grown accustomed to seeing at least once a week. “You will never _ believe what _ just happened this past week!”

“By the Divines, Elyden—”

“Okay, Okay, Okay, Okay, _ so _!” Elyden flinged his heavy leather backpack onto the hard wooden floor, feeling instant relief from the release of weight. He ignored the yelps of the servant nearby who he accidentally nearly hit. “You know how you sent me after a random burial just to see if our translations of the Dragonstone were accurate, right?”

“Yes—”  
  
“Well, I found a large dragon who I _ think _ is Alduin the World Eater!” He quickly looked through his _ many _ journals and notes until he found his sketchbook and slammed it onto the expensive table covered with unused soul gems. “Who resurrected _ this _dragon!” He jammed his finger repeatedly at the next page where Geinziinsed’s drawings were made, mostly of their bones and scales. “Admittedly enough, it’s not the most accurate since they tried to burn me alive and I don’t remember the details too well...” 

He trailed off into nonsensical, but _ fascinated _ rambles that would’ve gone on forever if it weren’t for the hooded lady trying to touch his book that he snapped back to reality. “ _ Then _ I killed Geinziinsed by crushing them with a totem!” Elyden exclaimed as he went back to his pack to find the fifteen pound bones he hauled back for weeks, only to look up to see Farengar apologizing to the hooded woman with a tired expression. “No, no, no, NO, _ NO _ ! Listen! I am _ not _crazy!”

“Elyden, as your professional colleague, I have to confess to you that this sounds like ulter bull—”

“_ Then _ , I absorbed their soul and their skeleton was completely clean!” Elyden interrupted as he struggled to pull out a large piece of rib that still had the beautiful mossy brown scales and carried it like it was his firstborn. “I swear to Divines and Daedra alike that _ this _ happened! Why would _ I _ lie about something that I have been spending all sixty-nine years of my life on!?”

Farengar easily plucked the bone off of his hands since he wasn’t a twink and was astonished at the details, his eyes sparkling with awe. Cradling the piece and letting the hooded woman take a look as he raised a brow at Elyden. “How do I know this wasn’t picked off from the grave?” The court wizard tried to wave the piece at him but it was too heavy to even hold it with one hand, so instead he just cradled it like a precious child. In which it practically was at this point even if Elyden murdered said precious child around a week ago.

“Okay, look, I can prove it.” Elyden glanced at Farengar’s tidy work desk to find a corner with a few stray unfilled soul gems with a proper stack of books. Perfect. Ignoring Farengar’s increasing warnings about _ not _ touching his stuff, he stood in front of it and easily Shouted: “FUS _ RO _ !”   
The items flung off the table and nearly blew off the hooded woman’s hood as the Thu’um echoed throughout Dragonsreach’s large halls, it even shattered most of the soul gems into tiny glass pieces. Elyden coughed afterwards as he gripped onto the table’s edge, massaging his sore throat with his gloved hand and dulfully thought that he wasn’t in the proper body to Shout like this. For some reason…

Farengar’s eyes widened as he stared at Elyden, stammering for words to make the _ logic _ of this. He pointed at the gems and back at him, struggling to even make proper sentences.

“Look even the Greybeards—“

“The _ Greybeards _?” The woman asked as she backed off a bit, her pale blue eyes narrowing as she looked up and down at Elyden. She was always a bit odd, never paying attention to him as she wasn’t interested in his work in the Dragon Cult and more keen on Farengar’s work in the dragons themselves. So it was very weird to suddenly have this extremely shady person’s attention on him. 

“Ah, yeah.” Elyden idly itched his beard as he tried to ignore the stares of the guards and others inside the palace as they were watching from the main hall. “They summoned me up from High Hrothgar after I absorbed a dragon’s soul—”

As Farengar opened his mouth to spill out his questions, the large doors of Dragonsreach slammed open as the sound of a body collapsing onto the wooden floors echoed across the empty palace. Elyden frowned in confusion and peered out of the doorway with Farengar and the woman to see a guard of the Whiterun’s watchtower just west of here quickly scrambling up to his feet. His chainmail had melted into his skin, the yellow cape was nothing more than burnt linen that barely hid his bleeding red flesh.

“Dragon!” The guard frantically pushed away everyone until he collapsed onto Irileth’s tense arms, his voice frantic and sore as he shook her golden elven armor with his scraped arms. “There was a _ dragon _at the tower!”

“Calm down-”

“It _ ate _Inwold! I tried to save him but-” 

Irileth pulled him back and forced him to stand up straight, narrowing her dark eyes as she quickly cast some healing spells to try to get him to calm down. “Get your head screwed on and speak _ properly _.”

The guard gulped and forced himself to straighten up his back as he shakily pointed out towards where the tower was. “A large purple dragon flew from Bleak Falls Barrow and burnt the Western Watchtower down.” He licked his lips as he struggled to not break down in front of the Jarl’s Council. “I was the only one who was able to run away alive, everyone else is holed up inside.”

“You did a brave thing.” Jarl Balgruuf said as he patted the guard’s back, giving a small smile of reassurance to the man and one of worry to Irileth. “Go home and rest, you earned it.”

The guard nodded and finally let the castle knights drag him away from the palace. 

“Did you see the dragon on your way here?” Farengar asked Elyden, ignoring the panic that spread across everyone else inside the castle. He seemed legitimately excited about a dragon coming over, though honestly Elyden was as well but he felt a bit...off.

“No.” Elyden said as he felt many of the nords’ eyes train on him, he wasn’t really sure how he felt about this. In one hand it felt natural, real, like home, and like he finally burst out of some kind of cage. It was _ euphoric _to have everyone look at him with fear and admiration, a nostalgic feeling bubbling in this throat and burnt his tongue. 

In another, he wasn’t sure of what to do about it. He was Dragonborn, now what? Elyden already got to the Greybeards and didn’t get much of an answer of what he was supposed to do besides the fact that the end times were near and that he had to go and retrieve a horn. And when he asked more questions he didn’t get much as he ‘wasn’t ready’, fair enough, he supposed. He hoped for more answers with the only dragon expert he knew but it looked like he wasn’t getting any with the way the wizard was looking at him.

“Farengar, the Jarl summons you!” Irileth shouted at Elyden and Farengar as the hooded woman left, drumming her gloved fingers against her recently cleaned golden blade and becunded towards the Jarl who was waiting for them upstairs. “Your friend is ordered to come along as well.” She said simply to Elyden with the usual distrusting expression before running to be aside Jarl Balgruuf. 

Farengar shrugged and followed after her as if this was normal but kept his eye on his colleague. “Think the dragon knows you’re here?” He asked innocently as he went upstairs to Jarl Balgruuf’s meeting room that was dense with worried guards and officials.

Elyden’s blood stilled at the thought of this being his fault and awkwardly shifted in his spot aside Farengar, not really paying attention to the conversation at hand as he played with his hair nervously. Even with him focusing on the wooden planks behind the soldiers nearby, he could still feel Irileth’s harsh glares that dug at his chest. Elyden now finally understood why he felt so uncomfortable about the giant dragon’s skull that hung above the throne and wondered when Irileth would be ordered to do the same to him?

“Elyden, you said you killed a dragon, right?” Jarl Balgruuf asked Elyden, stroking his beard in both wonder and in thought, even though he looked fascinated and in awe, Elyden could see the weight of the stress in his weary eyes. “And that you answered the Greybeard’s call?”

Elyden forced himself to look at the Jarl, well down since he was so much taller than the nord but still felt small in front of him. “Yes, my Jarl, I crushed it with a pillar…” Once those words left his lips he just realized how absurdist his first dragon kill was— how noble for a Dragonborn. Though perhaps the previous ones also had their discoveries in the most oddest ways, he’d have to ask later. 

“Then you have the most experience with one!” Jarl Balgruuf clapped a hand over Irileth's plated shoulders as she still scanned every detail of the altmer. “You should accompany her to the Western Tower.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. 

Elyden shook a bit as he still remembered how his blood ran pumped into his nervous heart for when Geinziinsed nearly burnt him alive but kept a smile and nodded which seemed to remove the sudden stress within the room. Besides, something inside him grinned at the thought of devouring another of his kind’s sil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know this chapter was so short? Sorry!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyden is me when finding out that I am a college student: Wandering around and confused as fuck of what the fuck I am supposed to do and everyone keeps on giving me odd advice that does nothing to sate my helplessness
> 
> Also HUGE thanks to my beta reader! https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/dummydalish who is just a great friend and so helpful without them this chapter would have been harder to read

Despite it being in the middle of Hearthfire, Elyden felt scorching hot. It was not due to the blaring sun nor warm air, it was due to the screaming fire dragon who relentlessly tore apart guards with his claws. The angry burns that once lingered at his skin were now mended and healed from the dovah’s soul and yet he still felt exhausted, like dead weight. 

The remaining Nords had clambered over to get him to Shout like the ancient heroes while Irileth dismissed it as simple legends. Elyden wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wasn’t sure of what he felt on any of this, but he was tired of it and needed answers. And since Farengar seemed more interested in experimenting on him rather than helping him, he took his leave for Greybeard duties and decided to go and visit his mentor all the way in Bromjunaar.

It was a long walk but Elyden enjoyed every second of it, he always loved hiking and traveling as it gave him time to unwind. As he approached the palace, he adjusted his fluffy fur cloak against the strong winds of the Pale as he entered Labyrinthian’s once grand doors. Even if he’d only get vague answers and more questions by the very least, he needed to get it off his chest with someone he trusted. So he pried open the doors of Bromjunaar that had been sealed once more from the ice and sighed from the warm fires inside. 

“Master Morokei!” Elyden shouted into the echoing chambers, shaking the snow out of his hair that sneaked in past his thick hood. “I’m h—“ 

“Took you long enough!” A wry voice barked back throughout the many hallways until a small portal shimmered into Elyden’s view in which a tall figure casually stepped out of it with a hum and brushed his hand against the many keys that hung beside his blue dress. It seemed like the dragon priest patched some of the newer holes in his long flowing dress that began to lose its once vibrant blue into a gross brown, though it didn’t seem like he’d wash it any time soon. 

“I thought you had forgotten about me.” Morokei chided like he would to a child as he played with the many keys that hug on his belt. “I was about to go to Whiterun and drag you back myself.” Even if the priest’s voice made him sound annoyed and disappointed with the way he was bouncing on his heels assured Elyden that it was  _ not _ a threat. Maybe.

“Forgive me, Master Morokei.” Elyden switched into dovahzul before he would get a lecture about proper language around him. “You would not believe what has happened to me in the past few months.” Morokei tilted his head and gestured for him to follow into the remains of the grand library. It was a giant dome-shaped room that once had many shelves and fireplaces decorated into the shapes of the animal gods, as it has been vividly described by the lich. But now it’s just a nest for the frost spiders to breed in as it is a ruin with only a few chairs and tables around. “I never thought doing translation work would be so difficult.” Elyden continued as he took off his thick cloak but kept on his usual leather robes with blue flower embroidery, the most lightest armour he could get. 

“Pft, tell me about it.” Morokei slid onto one of the ancient table’s chairs, sitting in the most impractical and uncomfortable way possible with his legs all twisted around each over and back leaned against the spine of the stone chair. Though every time Elyden asked about it, Morokei assures it’s the most comfortable way to sit in a chair and even jokes that it’s because of his gayness. “Well, what did you do during your time off with the royals?”

“Well, I found the Dragonstone in Bleak Falls Barrow!” Elyden sat across from him and dug through his many notes to show his replicas of the map and the chant behind it all translated to the best of his ability. “

He slid his worn orange leather journal across the stone table to Morokei. The priest carefully studied the various translations with the odd doodle and serious sketch nearby. He drummed his thin fingers against the table and idly played with the bronze ring that hummed of the Staff of Magnus’ power as he silently analyzed every detail. 

Elyden stopped rocking back and forth in his seat and nervously pinched at his wrists’ skin to calm himself. Even if he knew Morokei for nearly a decade now, he still felt weary around the former dragon priest. Though he never got hurt by the lich, except maybe a few scolds for not casting a frost spell properly, he knew it was wise to be careful around the man who once cannibalized people for fun. 

“The translations are  _ too  _ direct.” Morokei said simply as he turned the next leaf of the journal to look at the map that was copied over. “And the locations are a bit off, though it is quite possible that a dragon is buried where Morthal is built on.” Even with the shiny blue mask on, he audibly rolled his eyes but gave a small laugh at the thought. “But you’re getting better at the tongue, I’m proud of you.” 

Elyden sighed with relief, feeling the tension and prepared guilt of failing evaporated for now and relaxed into his seat. “Thank you Morokei, where did I mess up—“

Morokei held up a bare hand to silence him, the sickly green skin pulsing with bright neon blue among the open veins that never would heal from the influence of Magnus. Once Elyden shut his mouth and sat up with his chin high and back straight, Morokei turned to the next pages expecting more translations but instead finding the ramblings and doodles of Alduin and the past two dragons that he had found and killed. 

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Morokei asked, with concern nearly hidden away from his heavy tone. He held up the journal, careful not to let any loose notes plop onto the floor. 

Elyden scratched his thick black beard that hid away his lack of cheeks from the harsh winters and little coin, then gave a small shrug. “Right after the Dragonstone stories actually...” His nervousness was nearly masked by his excitement so it morphed into a weird mix of the two in the pit of his empty stomach. 

Morokei focused on the drawings of Alduin then looked back up at the elf with a clouded expression on his mask. Even though he’s masked majority of the time, Elyden learnt some mannerisms that signified Morokei’s mood. But now he wasn’t sure of what his mentor was feeling, probably not a good thing... “And you wrote in here that you  _ killed _ a dragon?” Morokei got a nod so he leaned in closer across the table. “And... _ ate  _ their soul?” 

“Yep...?” Elyden really didn’t think about how it was  _ not _ a good idea to tell a former masked dragon priest about his murder of his former gods. 

Morokei stroked his beard’s many braids that were barely visible from behind his blue mask with a hum. “I was hoping for it to not be this age.” He said as a matter of fact, looking away to anywhere else  _ but  _ Elyden’s face to signify his worry. “Nor of  _ you _ of being the Last.” He looked to have visibility cringed.

Excitement spiked Elyden’s blood as he eagerly shot up and slammed his hands on the stone table. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that!” He instantly sat back down as Morokei gave him a Look for speaking so loudly. “If you know anything about it, that is, of course, yep...”

“Of course I do!” Morokei scoffed as if it was the most simple thing ever and sat back down with crossed arms and a pout. “I knew The First.” 

“You were around when Al—“

“Not her.” The priest waved off Elyden’s words as he looked back at the many drawings of the dragons who all now rest inside the elf with a grimace. Then he carefully slid the worn journal back to him and leaned back in his seat with his hands folded across his chest. “The First Dragon _ born _ .” He corrected and hummed in nostalgia. “I was around when he was ‘Rescued from his unworthy parents’ right after he was born, he tried to chew on Alduin’s face which was pretty entertaining.”

Elyden took back his journal and made a new journal entry about the First Dragonborn and eagerly waited for more information to be fed to him. “You knew him?” He asked with fascination.

“A bit of a spoiled brat he was, though I suppose that’s understandable if you were born a god.” Morokei switched back to common tongue, his heavy accent and odd pronunciation of words eminent. Elyden didn’t mind, as he is the same with common despite it being his second language. “I don’t care to remember his real name but his given name was Miraak.” 

The priest waited for Elyden to translate the name. It took the elf a bit as he was too unfocused at the moment with many thoughts but he eventually got it. 

“Allegiance Guide?” He got a nod of approval, which brought up his mood quite a bit. “What was he like? Was he like me? How was it like being a Dragonborn?” Elyden nervously squeezed at his charcoal pencil and relaxed at the smooth textures. “What am I supposed to do?” He muttered, his mentor didn’t seem to hear.

Morokei gave a shrug. “I was only around for his...teenage years before he transferred to Solsthiem under Ahzidal’s mentorship, he was to be trained under me but I have the tendency to blow my apprentices up.” He drummed his gloveless fingers against the stone table, his broken nails giving a skin crawling clink against the material as he stated that fact as if it was normal. Elyden felt a bit more in danger around the dragon priest. “I didn’t care enough to visit him, but I heard he was both a troublemaker and good child, a sly liar and an honest person.” 

Morokei looked more and more uncomfortable as he spoke more about the First, as if it was physically making him hurt speaking about the man. Elyden also noticed that Morokei ignored most of his questions and felt a bulb of nervousness lodge in his thin throat. “Are you...angry at me?” That feeling worsened as the former dragon priest stopped his idle drumming. “Since it seems like my purpose is to kill your gods—“

“Not at all! If anything, it’s good for the sake of the world!” Morokei quickly said as he shot up from his seat defensively, but sat back down once he noticed Elyden looked ready to scatter away and defend himself. “Don’t worry about me, young one.” His tone softened considerably and stood back up to walk over to his side. “I just hope you don’t become like Miraak.” 

“What do you mean?” Elyden barely had to look up at him, as he nearly was his eye level even sitting down. But he was used to his height and its perks and cons. “What had happened to the First, anyway? And why haven’t I seen  _ any  _ records of him existing?”

“It’s because he was burnt off history for his actions.” Morokei casually shrugged as if that answered anything. As Elyden opened his mouth to respond, he got his hair gently ruffled which accidentally undone his hair bun. “I’ll tell you stories about Miraak later, just don’t do deals with Daedra, okay?”

Elyden relaxed a bit from the physical touch and nodded, despite the cold hands giving him a weird massage as the lich tried to redo his usual lazy ponytail. He wasn’t sure if he should feel comforted from the gesture or not from the long nails digging into his scalp and large ears. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“But enough about him!” Morokei insisted as he roughly patted his head before walking around him and the large corridor. “I want to know what  _ you  _ know about this whole Dovahkiin business.”

“Not much.” Elyden shrugged as he properly fixed up his ponytail as he didn’t have pointy claws as hands unlike his mentor. “Besides that it means that Alduin’s returned to eat the world and that my purpose is to stop him from killing everyone I love.” 

He got the nod to continue. “At least that’s what the Greybeards told me.” Elyden honestly didn’t get much from them besides that it’s his destiny and that it has been so long that a Dragonborn had come up. And that he is possibly not even the Last, no one knows. It was all so confusing. “Then they sent me off to get this horn that someone  _ else _ already got and  _ they  _ wanted me to meet them in Riverwood.” 

“Sounds like a trap.” Morokei said with a casual shrug as he nearly tripped from his long dress, but he got back up like a champ and acted as if nothing happened. “Just don’t get yourself killed, young one. Or I’d have no barriers stopping me from silencing Savos!” He gave a loud cackle before going into a fit of coughs as his throat convulsed from the lack of usable parts. 

Elyden gave a smile and tried not to shake from his nervousness as he patted his mentor’s back to assist him from spitting out the fifth fork this month. How was it that he was completely fine with talking to undead liches but the idea of being ambushed scared him even more? 

Once they arrived at the grand library, Morokei and pulled off his blue mask, showing off the many cracks in his preserved grey skin that glowed neon blue of Magnus’ influences. His right eye was completely shut from an accident so very long ago but his left eye was an empty socket with a dull blue dot serving as a pupil. The lich sat on the table, crossing his legs under his long blue dress as he played with his dreads that still remained until he put them back up into a ponytail. 

“What did Miraak do so bad that he got erased from history?” Elyden asked as he interrupted Morokei fixing up his many golden enchanted rings among his hair and beard. 

“He’s the one who started the Dragon Revolution.” Morokei leaned on his hands as he lazily glanced over at his apprentice. His lips curled in a way that Elyden wasn’t sure of what the other was thinking of.

“I thought the three ancient heroes started it?” Elyden asked, watching the lich casually wipe off some dust from the table, since the undead can’t get sick from giant dust bunnies but he very much can. Morokei looked around the library, grimacing at the ruined sight and stood up, giving Elyden a quick ruffle as he went towards the door out. The elf was used to this, he knew that his mentor easily got restless and always needed to be moving in order to stay in focus, at least from what he told him.

“From what others told me,” Morokei’s loud voice echoed throughout the ruined Capital of Skyrim, gesturing for Elyden to follow him through the giant hallways. Elyden scrambled to collect his stuff and chased after him until he was at a comfortable pace behind the dragon priest. “The three had gone to him for help but I was busy being sealed away for the Dragons’ return so take my words with a pinch of salt, young one.”

Elyden waved hi to some of the draugr who were busy playing cards with each other, one asked him to tell Savos hello for her. The altmer realized he had stalled too much and missed most of Morokei’s words. So he quickly caught back up with his teacher and pretended to agree with whatever he said. 

Morokei paused once they were alone in a long hallway that was right next to his lab, his shoulders tensing as he took a deep breath then exhaled along with his worries. He spun on his heel and confidently looked at Elyden with a wry smile with his curled lips before giving up his facade. “Damn it all, why did  _ you  _ have to be the Dragonborn of this age?” 

He kicked open the door to his lab, it was a giant room full of many alchemical ingredients, an ancient indoor greenhouse with floating plants in the smack middle, the sources of light being multiple candlelight spells and glowing mushrooms. It was a beautiful lab, still surprisingly well kept for someone as...chaotic as Morokei. Though he did have a bunch of non-human skeletons laying on the floor and tables randomly, Elyden was told that his mentor was once a surgeon before becoming a priest by one of the dragurs so maybe this was just a way to sate that?

Elyden gave a casual shrug as he went over to his usual lab equipment for one of Morokei’s lessons; he didn’t really know how to respond to that. But how was one supposed to? 

“It’s never going—” He then grumbled off in his own language, glancing back at the elf occasionally before snapping back to his rambles as he searched through his thick spell books and baskets for  _ something _ . 

“Master Morokei?” Elyden asked, switching to dovahzul to try maybe get the other to calm down a bit. He hoped that it was the right thing to do to come to him for guidance, it had always worked before. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am!” Morokei suddenly slammed down a basket full of jewelry right in front of Elyden, staggering them both from the heavy thump. His loud words caused many of the draugr guards to creep back into the shadows and crypts, Elyden wondered if he should do the same or if it would be another mistake. 

As Elyden tried to step back a bit in fear of being in the way of the lich’s frustrations, Morokei twisted back to face him and grasped onto his thin left wrist to carefully examine the simple silver ring. It was a gift from said lich, it helped Elyden summon flame atronachs with minimal magicka and gave a bonus to fire resistance.

Morokei plucked the ring out of his fingers and tossed it to the side without a second thought. Before Elyden could open his mouth to voice his complaints, Morokei pulled out a slightly-less simple iron ring that had intricate carvings of enchantment and handed it over to him. 

“Now, listen to me  _ very  _ carefully, young one.” The former priest’s knawly voice hushed enough to not hurt Elyden’s sensitive ears but loud enough to vent his concerns. He got a nod. “This ring lets you summon  _ me _ instead, as a lowly flame atronach is no match against  _ any  _ dragon priest.”

“Wait, what—!”

Morokei quickly dragged Elyden down to his head level but relaxed his hold on the other’s wrist and gave a gentle pat instead as if that would make up for the bruises. “Repeat after me: I will  _ not  _ make any deals with Daedra and Aedra alike.”

“I will not make any deals with Daedra and Aedra alike.” Elyden repeated, his expression betraying his wary and thoughts of the entire situation. He wondered if it was because of Miraak that he had to do these vows? At this point he wasn’t sure if anyone would ever be blunt with him about these things. And honestly he was getting used to the feeling, wasn’t too sure if that was a bad thing or not. “But sir—”

“I will not hesitate to call upon Morokei—me—whenever trouble comes!” Morokei continued as he loosened his death grip on Elyden. The elf was thankful for that but was still held down to his level, which was a lot for a six foot eleven man compared to a six foot two lich.

“I will not hesitate to call upon Morokei, you, whenever trouble comes.” Elyden frowned in guilt, he felt some guilt for having to summon him with his new ring for battles even if it was made just for that purpose. Felt like he was bothering him.

“I will not seek out any other Dragon Priests— _ especially  _ Hevnoraak!” Morokei looked disgusted from even saying his name. “He can and  _ will  _ turn you into a puddle of flesh and bone! And if that happens I will be very, very,  _ very,  _ unhappy!” He frowned as he realized that he was about to go into another rant and relaxed. “Just say the first sentence, young one…”

“I will not seek out any other Dragon Priest. Especially Hevnoraak?”

He let go of Elyden and crossed his arms in thought, chewing on his rotten lips. “I  _ was _ planning to destroy his temple either way so it mattered not…” Morokei looked up and down at Elyden then shrugged in defeat. “Just...be careful okay? I know this is all ‘sudden’ for you and that this is all confusing but trust me on this, it makes sense.” 

Elyden gave a nod and played with the silver ring, feeling a bit worse from this meeting for when he hoped for closure. “Can you tell me the context by the very least, Master Morokei?” He pinched his neck and scratched his beard to steam out his nervousness that made him so very restless.

“Hm, later.” Morokei snapped back to his usual self, folding his arms behind his back that was covered in light grey armor that was chipped and scratched from age.The lich looked to be in a better mood after the whole ring ordeal but with his mask off, Elyden could tell that something was still plaguing him. He wondered if it had to do with Miraak...

“No need to add to that pile of stuff you have to deal with already.” He gave a grin as if that would comfort Elyden.

It did not.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyden meets Delphine within Riverwood and tries to befriend her. She does not like this

Riverwood hadn’t changed a single bit since last time. The smell of freshly cut lumber lingered in the air among the occasional storm of saw dust spat from the giant machine. The townspeople were already inside their warm homes or drinking in the Sleeping Giant. 

Elyden adjusted his heavy backpack and waved hello to the guards who paid him no real mind as he usually traveled here to resupply and carefully entered the Inn. A blast of warm air mixed with the sharp smell of ale hit the elf, but he was more than used to it’s drunk patrons and tired host as he searched for Delphine who dealt with the rooms. 

“Going on another trip, eh?” The breton woman asked as she slightly looked up from her tankard that she was busy drying with a clean towel. 

“Yep! Can I uh get the-“ Elyden suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable as Delphine narrowed her blue eyes and analyzed every single inch of the altmer. “The attic room?”

Delphine blinked her eyes in slight surprise but took his ten septims and gestured to her left to a single small room. “Well we don’t have an attic room, but you can take that one for the night.”

Elyden nodded thanks with a warm smile, wondering if this was all a mistake or if he spoke to the wrong person. But as he set down his items for the night inside the tiny room, Delphine locked the door behind them both and turned around to face him with her hands on her hips. Suddenly her demeanor changed: her back was completely straight and squared, her head was high and eyes cold and unmoving, her arms drumming against her hips. Suddenly Elyden was faced with someone who wasn’t that Innkeeper who spent her days scolding her partner for not having enough mead for the nights. 

“I suppose you weren’t lying back in Dragonsreach, Elyden.” Delphine simply said before turning around and gesturing for him to follow. “Come on,  _ we  _ need to talk.” 

Elyden gingerly took his items and followed after, giving a slight prayer to Auri-El and Akatosh alike that this wasn’t a trap and that he was to be slaughtered for his organs. Delphine nodded to the host of the Sleeping Giant as she entered the large room usually reserved for the rich nobles who traveled among the roads. She paused in front of the inhumanly large wooden dresser and she gestured for Elyden to close the door behind them. Despite Elyden’s logic telling him to get the fuck out of there, he complied with her wishes and even locked out of habit. He wasn’t sure if his common sense was even present anymore at this point. 

“Good,  _ now _ we can talk.” Delphine opened up the dresser and carefully put the fancy clothing left from a previous patron and fished out an old key from her many pockets from her worn pockets. Making sure that Elyden was watching, she unlocked a hidden door within the dresser and pushed open the old planks leading to a hidden room underneath the Inn. 

As Delphine descended, she noted that Elyden was recharging his elven sword. “If I wanted to harm you, I  _ wouldn’t _ do it where everyone can hear you.” 

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” Elyden replied as he hesitantly stepped through the stairs, having to lean down considerably for the low ceiling not designed for tall elves. Despite his best judgement, his morbid curiosity forced him down inside the well lit room in which his host was waiting. 

It was a small room with a large oak table flat out in the middle covered in maps and books. In the corners was a humming grand enchanting table that Elyden envied for and an alchemy set with barrels upon barrels of ingredients nearby that gave the room a permanent scent of herbs and poisons. And what caught his eye was the many weapons that were rare and ancient, once owned by the Blades that had guarded the many Dragonborns before him. 

“It seems like the Greybeards think you’re  _ the _ Dragonborn.” Delphine looked up and down at Elyden as she leaned on the table, intently staring at him for any cracks and wears. “I hope they’re right…”

“What do you want with me?” Elyden’s hand hadn’t left the hilt of his sword, nervousness eminent in him but he was very much curious of how would this go. It seemed like there was more to this Delphine besides this retired veteran who just wanted to spend the rest of her days in Riverwood. 

“I didn't go through all this trouble on a whim.” Delphine firmly spat before softening to not appear  _ as  _ threatening. “I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap, I am  _ not _ your enemy.” She reached into a small leather bag that hung beside her on her dull blue dress and pulled out the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller that has been recently cleaned then tossed it to Elyden who barely caught it. “I just need you to hear me out."

Elyden frugally held the heavy horn in his hands, trying to piece everything together for it to work in the gears of his head. “So you’re the one who left the note in Ustengrav?” He knew that she was once a soldier but he didn’t expect her to still have it in her. Suppose life is full of surprises and won’t let him have a moment or a week to fully process it all.

“Surprised?” Delphine smirked with pride before going back to her usual expression of ‘I am the boss and you cannot stop me’ with a hint of ‘don’t be  _ too _ intimidated by me’. “Suppose I am getting better at this act than I thought...Either way! Are you willing to hear me out or not?”

“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.” Elyden gave a small laugh to try to comfort himself from the entire situation. “How did you know that I would be looking for the horn?”

“I figured the Greybeards would send you there if they thought you were Dragonborn, they’re nothing if not predictable.” Delphine scoffed as she stood up straight and crossed her arms. 

Elyden gestured for her to continue as he carefully put the horn in a safe spot within his pack. He wondered how many other people had gone through the trials he did in order to get the horn and treasures before perishing. It was an interesting thought. “So you’re looking for a Dragonborn?” 

“Yes, because we—I remember what most don’t: that you’re the ultimate dragonslayer.” Her words made Elyden’s throat clench in both pride and in uncomfortableness in his soul. “You're the only one that can kill a dragon  _ permanently _ by devouring its soul.” She slammed her fists against the table before softening once again, muttering some words to herself. “Right?"

“Yes…” Elyden put a hand to his chest, still feeling the two dragons that he slain and ate alive. He can still feel their memories and thoughts lingering in his, he can feel someone living inside him. “T-That’s how I first discovered I can Shout .” The altmer brushed a stray strand of hair from his face and pinched at his neck in thought. “You were there when I first told Farengar, remember?”

Delphine first frowned but then gave a slight hint of a smile. “That I was, but don’t shame me for not believing in your words alone.” She leaned on the fists of her hands as she rested her elbows back on the table. “Since you had studied the dragon’s language  _ way _ before you were hired by Farengar, who says you hadn’t just learnt to Shout?” 

Elyden shook his head. “No I have tried before, it was impossible to make even a whisper without tearing my throat out.” He remembered vividly of Master Morokei trying to get him to use what was called ‘Frost Breath’, the only one that the lich had mastered. He also remembered coughing up blood as his throat was literally torn apart from such force.

“When I absorbed the dragon’s souls, I gained a certain…” The altmer paused as he struggled to think of a way to explain it. How could one explain that killing someone for their memories and power increased your own? “understanding. It’s like I got a blueprint of how to  _ properly _ Speak. And each dragon soul I absorb made the blueprint clearer.” 

Delphine raised an eyebrow. “Well you’ll get a chance to prove it to me soon enough, Dragonborn.” She then took a stray rolled up parchment of paper, it was yellow and cheap and didn’t look important. Then she carefully unraveled it and spread it out across the table, making sure that Elyden could clearly see the contents. “Recognize this?”

Elyden nodded, was this why Farengar wanted him to get the Dragonstone? He leaned onto the table as well with his own miniature one in his worn journal to compare. “You got some of the locations off.” 

If the breton woman heard she didn’t show. “The dragons aren't just coming back, they're being resurrected.” She jabbed a finger into the paper right above Kynesgrove. “They didn't just vanish for all these years, they were killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. And now something's happening to bring them back to life and I need  _ you _ to help  _ me _ stop it."

“So you wanted to tell me that dragons are coming back?” 

“That’s right.”

Elyden frowned. This wasn’t exactly new information, he had studied the Dragon Cult for decades and Morokei liked to joke that once the dragons came back that he’d properly train him as a dragon priest. “Okay? So that’s all you wanted me to know? That my job is to stop the dragons? How is this anything more than what the occasional nord likes to remind me?”

Delphine pinched the middle of her brow as she willed herself to stay in control. “I have studied their resurrection patterns.” She traced a finger from Helgen and across the map all the way into where the small town of Kynesgrove was. “I want you to come with me all the way into Kynesgrove, watch the resurrection to see how it works and why, then kill the bastards.”

The altmer leaned onto the table as well, drawing the map closer and compared it with his own revised notes before remarking some of the locations. The pattern was pretty clear now that he looked at it. It started from Helgen then spread in a circular manner towards Riften and the mountains behind it. Elyden wondered why Alduin followed such a path, it seemed both random yet purposeful. As if the answer was obvious to him, he scolded himself for getting so forgetful easily; it was obvious that Lord Alduin wanted to get his strongest followers first! The most loyal and powerful that deserved His breath of life. Odd that he could neglect to remember so easily! Right? 

“What will that accomplish? I have to kill them either way, with or without you.” Elyden asked as he pushed his previous thoughts out of the way for later. He didn’t have the time to process the many memories that pushed into his own after the death of the second dragon’s that now rests inside him. Nor of the urge to Shout into the sky and reclaim his former priests and followers for Alduin’s return. Not even of the ich to slice Alduin into pieces to devour his intoxicating soul that was basically taunting him. 

“Because then we can figure out how they do it! So we can stop it before the tyranny of the monsters come back!” Delphine insisted, her impatience clear and imminent as she drummed her fingers against the wooden table. “Can’t you see how this will help the world? How this can be your only chance to figure out what’s truly going on for yourself?” 

Elyden paused then nodded. This was all so much information and no one has really answered much of his questions besides adding more into that pile that has been overloading him. Maybe if he gets to Kynesgrove with this Delphine woman beside him he can get a second perspective into what’s going on. And maybe then she can reveal what she had been hiding from him, of why she is so important and to The Dragonborns. Maybe he can finally get his answers that he craved for so much. 

“Alright...” Elyden straightened up his back and gave a warm smile to try to hide his true feelings about this entire thing. Was this a mistake? Only time will tell, hopefully sooner rather than later. “So when are we leaving?” 

“As soon as the sun rises.” Delphine exhaled with relief, her shoulders loosening and posture relaxing. “You can use the bedroom above us and your meal is on me, rest up before tomorrow.” She walked around him before awkwardly patting his back then climbed back upstairs as the Inn keeper’s assistant. “Good night, Dragonborn.”

“Night…! And thank you Delphine!” Elyden shouted back, hearing no response he slumped his head on top of the table and was careful to not smear any ink off the maps. 

Was he an absolute idiot? Possibly so as he had just agreed to a possible death sentence with this stranger woman. For all he knew she was some fanatic who believed that he was a False due to his altmer blood and would slit his throat in his sleep. It wouldn’t surprise him, he got a few of those comments among his journey to Riverwood. A dull hurt ached at his chest but he knew had to tough it out, what kind of Dragonborn would he be if he was so easily scared from a handful of crazies? 

The elf climbed back upstairs and closed the secret door behind him, the echo of the bards happily singing Ragnar the Red with the drunks made his head throb but he was too tired to really complain. He simply collapsed onto the nice bed made for nobles and was a bit taken aback from the soft mattress and warm sheets. It has been so long since he has been in a bed  _ this _ nice. The last time he could really remember was his parents’ bed way back then when he still lived in Summerset Isles. A bitter distaste filled his mouth as he knew that only the rich could get such luxuries but felt a bit better knowing that his poor filthy ass was sleeping in one. 

Elyden wrapped himself up in the blankets in only his undershirt and clutched onto his amulets of faith. Honestly he hadn’t been much of the religious type, as worshipping Auri-El or Akatosh took too much of the little time he got. But it was nice to have the two different aliases of the gods around his neck, it gave him an odd comfort. Especially now since Akatosh created the dragons, so that means He had created the Dragonborns right? Or was it Kyne? He wasn’t sure anymore, no priest of either faith could give him a clear answer from their jumbled up lore and rules. 

The altmer was always a morning person and the years spent waking up early for his travels made it into a habit. So it was just pure instinct that he was already up and ready before Delphine knocked on his door. She was already in her leather armor that she always wore in Dragonsreach, it was worn but sturdy and hid the many vital parts. The woman adorned on a hood and a wool scarf to conceal her face the best she could, only those piercing blue eyes were visible that could kill a man with their stare. 

Elyden quickly ate a piece of bread before leaving off from Riverwood on their journey to Kynesgrove, adjusting his own simple leather tunic underneath his fur coat just in case anything exciting happens as he caught up with Delphine. For someone who is only up to his collarbone in height, she walked so fast. 

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” 

“Eh?” Elyden pulled his elven sword off a wolf that tried to tear them to shreds along with it’s pack. 

Delphine put a hand on her steel sword’s hilt, making Elyden’s skin crawl with weariness. “You fight a lot like the Thalmor does.” 

“Wait, what?” Elyden has never been accused of that, even if it still made his heart race and blood run cold as he kept an innocent confused expression. Was this the day? The day where someone finds out and he has to get rid of them just to keep the truth to the grave? 

“You favor the elven sword and fight defensively with magic. Very swirly and dance-like, meant to do damage to others but none to yourself.” Delphine looked up and down at him, slowly removing her grip from her weapon. “It’s rare that I see other high elves doing so.” 

Elyden gave a shrug and kept cool and casual as he brushed the blood off his sword among the wolf’s pelt. “That’s the way my parents taught me.” That wasn’t  _ exactly _ a lie. “All of my skills I learnt from them and I would be  _ very  _ surprised if they were Thalmor since they despised them.” He gave a small laugh. 

Delphine looked up and down at him before sighing and forcing herself to relax. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to assume, Dragonborn. It was stupid of me...” 

“No worries!” Elyden assured, hopefully not too quickly to not give away any hints. Despite how many times he had gone through this he still felt nervous and on the verge of revealing himself. “You fight pretty well yourself! I suppose you learnt from your time in the Legion?” 

Delphine nodded and turned on her heel to continue their journey as she sipped from her thick water skin. “Yep, still have it from all of these years.” She said with a hint of pride. 

“If it’s not rude of me,” Elyden walked beside her, adjusting his fluffy cloak to protect against the strong winds of Riften. “may I ask how old you are?” 

The breton looked at him with confusion. “Why?” Even with the mask on, the altmer could see her brows knitting together. 

Elyden shrugged once again. “Curious, I am sixty-nine.” 

Delphine gave a small airy laugh. “So a child in the eyes of the mer, am I correct?” She suddenly shifted uncomfortably and went back to her resting bitch face. 

Elyden rubbed the back of his head, slightly adjusting his tight ponytail with a slight shrug. “Yep...unfortunately so.” He gave a warm smile, wanting to comfort his new companion as much as possible. 

“Well I— ” Delphine said with pride before hesitating and looked at him suspiciously. “What’s your plan?”

“What?” 

“You’re  _ too  _ nice.” Delphine hissed as she stepped a bit further than him. 

“Is that bad…?” Elyden asked with a slight frown as Delphine walked ahead of him, not trusting him at all with her eyes narrowed. “I’m just trying to make small talk? Is...Is that just not what people do or…?”

Delphine made no response and kept walking, eventually letting him walk beside her once again before stilling into silence once again. 

The altmer felt a bit disappointed. He enjoyed silence as much as the next person; at times he preferred to be alone rather than in a huge crowd, especially when his social battery was drained. Delphine was odd to him. She was so secretive but not? She openly showed off her skills in combat and in survival that he never heard of but refuses to speak off her personal self, though enjoyed to prod at him for personal secrets. Really personal stuff that he dreaded hearing of. 

But Elyden was hoping to get to know Delphine a bit more, especially since she insisted on him helping her figure out what’s going on. Even though Elyden full on knew what was going on, well at least in theory. Maybe. Is Morokei a reliable source? Savos would say absolutely not while Toldfier would say definitely so. 

Speaking of which, he had to send a letter to the College concerning his absence. Especially with his new...predicament he probably wouldn’t be able to go back for a while. Normally he’d summon Morokei with the iron ring and ask him to send the letter for him but he knew that it was a terrible idea with Delphine around. So he’d just have to hope that a courier was nearby and that no one would mess with his office while he was gone. 

“Let’s stop here.” Delphine stopped in front of a ruined ancient Nordic temple that Elyden instantly knew was once a spot for sacrifices. But now it was overrun with shrubbery and formed into an odd little cave with the totems that had shadows of their incantations crumbled around. “It’s close enough to the roads that the wild shouldn’t probably bother us much yet far enough that other travelers wouldn’t bother us.” 

Elyden shrugged, he didn’t really care much to be honest. Even with the settling sun giving his olive tan skin a kiss of cold, he really thought they could’ve gone farther. Though if Delphine says she is at her limit, he wouldn’t mind getting some early rest. After all, a fifty year old man is different from a sixty year old mer. 

But most exciting of all was the totems. Elyden took out his journal for the alphabet of ancient Nordic and base translations as he ran a hand over the worn inscriptions within the stone. He casted candlelight as he looked through the old words, very few were even readable but confirmed his initial thought of where they were. 

“Funny,” Elyden looked up from his journal as he looked up at the miniature building that had multiple iron rusted poles scattered about in the front yard. “you and I are about to sleep right upon the spot where many peasants lost their lives from the dragon’s divine breath.” It was morbid but fascinating. 

Delphine looked up from setting up her tent and raised her brow, her mask and hood pulled off. “How comforting…” She paused then looked back at him. “Why do you study the Dragon Cult?”

The altmer shrugged as he ran another bare hand across the totem, feeling a small hint of melochanly from the two dovah’s wiggling inside his soul. “Well I first got into it from my father,” He felt a bit of melochanly himself, wondering if it were even possible to even face his family once again. But he already knew the answer. “he used to bring me with him on his expeditions as it was his favorite hobby. Kind of a dad and son thingy, only a lot more dangerous.”

“Why would a parent bring his child with him to the ruins?” Delphine sat down on a cracked stone bench that was once beautifully carved with dancing dragons. Now the wings barely show through the mold and moss.

“Oh I wasn’t in  _ terrible _ danger!” Elyden laughed at the odd memories he had nearly dying from tripping an old trap that he thought was faulty. Of course his father would angrily scold him but hug him with relief afterwards. “Besides, I always had this odd connection with the draugr. They didn’t really seem to want to harm me much, and were very willing to teach me their extinct culture in exchange for candles.” 

“Candles?” Delphine interrupted in surprise, she smirked at the thought of a tiny altmer child handing over a bag of candles in exchange for bits of research. “Odd.”

“Apparently they were running out of explorer’s fat to use to make them! So they asked me to give them new materials so they could give me lessons in speaking their tongue.” Elyden said with a laugh himself, he remembered the confused expression his father gave him when he carried a large bag of colorful scented candles to a Draugr Overlord during their travels. Who then foundly ruffled his hair in thanks as her tongue was rotted away. And from what he remembered, that draugr was the one who taught him sign language of the times as she could no longer speak. “Well it was mostly curse words but it was something!” 

Delphine gave a small laugh as well, it seemed more genuine, sending a wave of happiness to Elyden’s mood. She played with her hair that she let down for the night to braid. “Were the candles at least pretty?” 

Elyden scoffed. “Well yeah obviously! Do you think of me as a scam, Delphine?” He stuck out his tongue playfully. “I remembered one draugr was allergic to lavender so my home was filled to the brim with the smells of a blooming lavender farm, my sister tried to strangle me for that.” 

“I don’t blame her.” Delphine smiled with a sense of nostalgia, seeming a bit lost in memories so Elyden left her to her muses and went back to his studying of the totems. He felt even better from somewhat improving her mood.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took a bit! But the next chapter is already cookin so it shouldnt be so long to finish. I hope. Maybe.
> 
> Dovahzul translations in the end

“Hail there travelers!” A heavily accented voice, one similar to Elyden’s which instantly gave him a sense of weariness. Delphine cursed and she pulled back on her mask as the three Thalmor agents drew closer among the cold single roads that were slowly disappearing from the snow.

“Yea?” Elyden turned on his heel and adjusted his fluffy hood with a curious look to mask his dread. 

There was a single Thalmor Justiciar, a dull blonde man who adorned on a warm thick coat but still made sure to show off his golden belt buckle of the oh so very familiar symbol of the organization. By his sides were two soldiers adorned in the traditional elven armor with fur undergarments. They all approached the two, the main Justifier looking up and down at Elyden. 

“Mind answering some questions, brother elf?” His voice seemed kind but the tone was cold. He rested a hand against his beautiful gilded mace right by his hip and looked at Delphine with ever increasing suspicion.

“Sure, what’s up?” Elyden put his water skin away and put his hands back into his worn down college robe’s pockets past his simple leather tunic. He got his expression and body language neutral but inside he was panicking. What if this was about him? What if someone recognized him? Oh Divines he should’ve paid the face changer a lot more to make him unrecognizable from his past self. He was such an idiot-

“Are you the Dragonborn?” The Thalmor’s words startled him with surprise. On one hand he was relieved, on the other he had a different problem now. The Justiciar lost his professional kindness and gave a hateful stare among with his soldiers beside him. 

“I’m not a nord, so no I don’t think so?” Elyden replied, giving a small laugh as Delphine pulled on her hood to cover her eyes more. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘brother’ elf.” One of the soldiers thrust a sharpened axe right up near his neck, forcing Elyden to put up his hands in defense. “We heard the rumors and know of your work with Farengar’s projects,  _ Elyden _ .”   
Elyden immediately shot his hands up in defense as the blade pressed more into his thin neck, still trying to keep a wry smile as the blood drained from his face. “I just study—“ His words were cut off as the axe pressed harder against his neck, cutting a bit into his skin and releasing a bit of his rushing blood. 

Delphine cursed under her breath as she put a hand on her sword and backed off from the other soldier, giving a warning glare. Elyden swallowed as he willed himself to think before either of their heads were cut off to be presented as trophies. He knew how the Thalmor fought, as he had been trained underneath them for the majority of his life. He knew very well that they first used paralysis before either chopping their heads off or electrocuting them into dust. But if he manages to dodge said paralysis, then he knows that the soldiers would serve as tanks while the wizard casts more spells. So he was slightly at advantage here, if the Thalmor hadn’t changed their methods in those two decades he was gone. But it was still three against two, and he wasn’t sure of Delphine’s experience with Thalmor.

But Elyden had acted quickly as he saw that the black robed mage was preparing several scrolls of paralysis, sending chills down his spine as he watched Delphine slowly nocked an arrow in her longbow. 

“ _ Fo _ !” A spray of nail biting cold ice was spat at the soldier’s face, spreading a thick sheet of ice around her face and neck. 

“ _ Wuld _ !” Before anyone else could react, Elyden was hurled with his single word a good meter or so away from the Thalmor. Forcing himself to keep his footing, he hurled a ball of fire at one of the soldiers who was thrown back screaming against a tree and didn’t move again. 

The elf reeled to the side as two bursts of heavy paralysis barely missed his head. The Justifier cursed as he drew his mace and angrily shot single hot bolts of electricity at him. Elyden staggered as a few hit him but refused to back down as his world became jolted and dizzy. Shaking his head to stay clear, his blade gave a loud clank as it blocked the mace from his head. But didn’t stop him from tripping over from the sheer force. 

“I am bringing you back, alive or  _ not,  _ bastard!” The Justiciar's sharp blue eyes burned with anger as he raised up his angler weapon to cave Elyden’s skull in.

“Fus  _ RO!”  _ Elyden’s Shout made the Justifier stumble back and lose his footing. Quickly scattering back up to his feet, Elyden realized he didn’t have enough time to slit his throat before getting his neck crushed by the mace and Delphine was busy with the other soldier. 

“ _ Tiid!”  _

The world suddenly slowed down as the Justifier’s swinging of the mace crawled to a halt with a furious glare. The birds above froze mid air. Delphine’s battle cries where a silent echo as she parried the last soldier’s conjured sword. It was Elyden’s first time trying out this Shout, it was just a gamble but he knew that he only had a few minutes before time around his small sphere went back to normal. 

So Elyden as quickly as he could thrust his blade past and through the Justifier’s throat. Slowly the Thalmor’s expression molded from blood lust into horror and into a blank slate as his once blue eyes dulled into nothing. 

Then everything suddenly became too quick for Elyden. The birds who once were just floating objects in the sky scattered away from the scene. The wizard collapsed underneath’s Elyden and blood sputtered out from the gore and burst veins. Delphine screams of glory echoed the empty cold lands as the remaining soldier fell by her blade.

“Elyden!” Delphine quickly ran over to him, exhausted as her hood had been torn off from the fight and her blonde hairs stuck to her face. She then paused and looked up and down at him, suddenly unsure and maybe slightly afraid. “What...What was that???”

Elyden slowly took out his waterskin, his hands a bit shaky as his movements felt too fast for him. “I am not sure honestly!” He gave a small laugh as he tried to process it. Was this how Shouts worked? And how did he know Tiid would work? It was a gamble at this point and yet he felt like he knew the exact way, at least according to the two dragons who guided his own towards the Voice inside him. 

“I saw how you spat ice over that Thalmor bitch!” Delphine pointed over to the corpse that still had bits of frost encasing her left eye. “Or of how you just...teleported???” She looked so confused and a bit amazed in a way. The same way that everyone looked at Elyden when he first Shouted at Dragonsreach: scared but in thought. He didn’t like it. 

“Yeah, I sure did…” Elyden sipped from his herbal tea that he always stored in there. It was a mix of snowberries and blue mountain flower that had become cold long ago but he appreciated the small bits of healing to his small cuts and burns. “Hey Delphine, can I ask you something?”

Delphine paused before straightening her back and looking up and down at the elf. Which wasn’t hard to do considering their drastic height difference. “Yes of course, Dragonborn?”

Elyden slightly frowned, now she was gonna just call him Dragonborn instead of his name. Just like everyone else. “Well I tested out a Shout, and it, at least I think so, slowed down time for me.” He got a curious look but he continued. “I mean like  _ everything  _ literally slowed down for me! Everyone was moving at a slow pace that I could clearly see that wizard’s chest moving up and down-” He shook his head to stop rambling so much, this is why he carried a journal. “Did you feel aware of it?”

Delphine crossed her arms and shrugged. “No not really? You just moved really, really fast for me.” She paused then gave a small smile. “You have barely killed any dragons and yet you already have the power to slow down time. Imagine what else you can do when you devour more and more souls...”

Elyden didn’t like her smile, it reminded her of the smile that the Captain of the Whiterun Guard gave him when he tried to offer him a position in the army. Or of Jarl Balgruuf when he gave him the title of Thane and a house to call his own. Was this how the other Dragonborns before him felt like? Just a simple weapon to use and abuse before he ran out of juice? Was this why the Greybeards didn’t associate themselves with war? 

“Yes I suppose I can but I…” Elyden’s response made a frown appear from Delphine’s features; one of disappointment. It dug a dagger of hurt into the elf’s gut. “Let’s just get going! I don’t want to get to Kynesgrove only to find it overrun!” He gave a dry laugh to try to ease both his nervousness and of the split between him and Delphine. 

“Right.” Delphine sheathed her sword back and after snagging a few unbroken potions and dry food from the Thalmor’s corpses, she followed after the Dragonborn. 

It was silent. The trees barely moved. The snow was soft and warm. Small mummers of the townspeople echoed from inside their homes. The remaining guards frantically waved them over with drawn bows and charged spells, waiting for the fight to eventually happen. But Elyden and Delphine ignored them for the giant beast that circled around the large hill that loomed over Kynesgrove. 

Alduin, at least Elyden thought so. The World-Eater had significantly grown in size from last time, making the small mining town tiny in comparison. His jaws were thick with overgrown teeth that poked through the gums, his scales were more smoothed over, perfect for flying quickly, if such a large being could. But his wingspan more than was double the size of his body, ripping apart trees and cracking mountains a single swoop. Even with all of that, Elyden knew that Lord Alduin wasn’t fully complete in his godly form, this was just the beginning. 

Elyden felt a pungent of fear that made his legs shudder. This was the being he was supposed to defeat? Supposed to devour and tear apart with his claws? It did give him a small sense of challenge among the souls he stored inside but it did not override this simple logic: he still very much a small elf who was born to slay this monster. 

“Divines…” Delphine shuttered, pulling her hood closer to hide from the snow. “What  _ is  _ that?” She hissed as she carefully trudged up the hill, trying to keep out of sight. But Elyden knew it was pointless, he could feel the familiar pull of Alduin’s soul, and he very much knew that it was the same for Alduin. He has nowhere to hide. 

“The World-Eater.” Elyden said simply as he slowly stepped over the empty bodies of the ones who were unfortunate to greet The God. “Looks like he was busy.” He gave a small laugh despite the sense of dread creeping up on him. 

“Elyden!” Delphine snapped back at him and pulled him down to hide behind a large boulder right before the ancient dragon burial. “This is  _ not  _ the time for jokes! This is serious!” 

“Right…” Elyden knelt beside her, watching Alduin circle endlessly around the burial before hovering right above it.

“Sahloknir!” A loud thunderclap echoed throughout the empty mountains that encaged Kynesgrove. “Slen Tiid  _ Vo _ ! Let your flesh be  _ unrotten _ !” A Shout sprayed against the frozen dirt as a scream of life desperately clawed against it’s tomb. The heavy pounding ceased as a bony claw broke through the dirt and crawled itself out, the dragon’s flesh and scale slowly knitting itself back on.

Violently shaking the dirt and moss off his snowy white scales and spikes, Sahloknir looked back up at Alduin with such adoration and excitement as if they were old friends reunited. “Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"

“Geh, dii mid aar.” Alduin cooed before turning his head right at where Elyden ‘hid’. “Dreh hin joor fahdon ni nu do vir Zu'u vis sahlon hin nuvah, Dovahkiin?”

Elyden saw from the corner of his eye Delphine slowly drew her sword as she looked at him for a translation. He said nothing as he slowly stood up, dusting the dust off his fur kilt and looked up at Alduin. Waiting. For anything. 

“Dreh hi praag zey wah naak daar malur do  _ draaf _ , Thuri?” Sahloknir snapped his jaws at Elyden, snarling in anger and fear. He struggled to stand up straight, his teeth snarling and poise ready to pounce. 

The elf carefully put a hand over his sword, his heart quickening and blood freezing. He was lucky during his first kill and with his second one he got the help of the Whiterun Guard but he felt that he wouldn’t be lucky with this third one. Straightening up his back, he took a deep breath and looked up at Alduin before asking: “Fos dreh hi hind do zey?”

Sahloknir drew up his blue wings to attack, his lips snarling and chipped teeth drooling. The frost dragon looked furious, which from what Elyden remembered was because only a few were permitted to even  _ think _ in Dovahzul; his punishment would be death. The elf’s sword was clanking against his thighs from how shaky his hands were. It was just from the cold, he said to comfort himself. As if he were foolish enough to even believe  _ that. _

“I want nothing of you Dovahkiin.” Alduin chuckled as he began to circle around Sahloknir, making sure to give him plenty of time to completely regain his living body. “Sahloknir, do better than Geinziinsed.” 

Delphine shot an arrow into Sahloknir’s right eye, shoving Elyden down to the ground as the frost dragon screamed out in agony. The heavy bursts of dust shoved the two over as the furious beast took to air and drew in a breath to Shout. 

Elyden tossed Delphine by the helm of her armor and cast ebony flesh as a heavy stream of ice and sleet spread all over where they once stood. A stray ice spike split through his armor and tore the flesh around his wrist and lodged right into his shoulder blades. He staggered back and cried out as the numbing pain throbbed his dizzy head. No words were heard but he was alive for now. 

An earth shattered thump shoved Elyden back against the floor, snapping the ice pike in half inside of him. Sahloknir thrust his tail across Elyden’s feet and kept him pinned like a wild animal. An influx of arrows harbored the dragon’s movements as Delphine drew her sword and pounced on his neck. Anchoring onto the spikes, she managed to thrust her blade  _ deep  _ into Sahloknir’s neck who was struggling to wring her off. 

During the commotion, Elyden refused to just sit there like a confused turtle and sprang back up as soon as he was free. His hands burned with the magic hastily forced into this world as he hurled a river of fire against Sahloknir’s bare wounds. 

Taking the opportunity at hand, Delphine scrambled up above Sahloknir’s exposed bleeding skull and screamed out as she drove her sword past the bone and brains. Elyden rolled out of the way as the beast collapsed into the dirt with a silent crash. 

Delphine waved at Elyden with triumph before quickly scattering away from the body that was burning up into flames. Elyden easily pulled the frozen spike out of his body as his wounds knitted back together and his energy recharged as the slain dragon joined the rest inside him. The grand frost dragon Sahloknir was no more than just a pile of bones now.

“Divines…” Delphine stepped back as she slightly nudged the giant skeleton, looking back at Elyden with astonishment before going into a slight hint of a smile. “Now I can see why the Dragonborn of the past needed the Blades.” 

Elyden gave a slight laugh, trying to hide the heavyweight of failure in his gut. What kind of a Dovahkiin was he? He didn’t even kill it in the end! How was he supposed to slay Alduin if he couldn’t even handle a simple dragon in the end without help? The gods must have made a mistake choosing him as the devourer of dragons, as he clearly was  _ nothing _ but a dead weight for the real warriors.

“Well this expedition wasn’t  _ as _ helpful as I thought it would be.” Delphine limped around to gather her arrows, scorning at the onslaught of broken ones. Her sides were obviously hurting her but she made no sign of wanting to mend it. “But it did give me some food for thought…” She paused as Elyden cast healing hands on her, mending her bruised bones and bleeding cuts. 

“Sorry that I couldn’t be much help!” Elyden found it hard to stay neutral physically when he was so close to breaking down. “I will get better though! I just…” He paused with a frown. Just what? Just out of practice? Just useless? Just slow? 

Delphine looked up and down at him, pursing her lips in thought, then shrugged. “Don’t beat yourself up over it so much, Elyden.” She turned on her heel and rested a hand on her hip to face him properly. “Not everyone has been trained to kill dragons.”

Elyden put his hands down and pinched his thin neck, looking anywhere but her eyes. “I suppose you have since you’re a Blade?” He said carefully, still not sure of how Delphine would react.

She drummed her fingers against her many layers of padding and leather then shrugged. “That I am, and I think it’s time to try to find the others once again.” Delphine tried to stand up on her toes to pat Elyden’s shoulder but as she was barely at his chest, she went for patting his back instead. “Come on, let’s get to the Inn for some rest, I got some thinking to do.” 

Elyden had been to Kynesgrove only a handful of times but it still felt forgein to him. The heavy smell of ore and ale stung at his lungs. The drunken miners who insisted on him going into drinking games with him despite saying no many times. The man who touched his thigh  _ too  _ much made him want to shrivel. All too much. It was all too much.

Ignoring Delphine’s insistence of him going to bed right away, he had to get outside. The cold rush of air crashed against his sweaty face was a blessing from the gods themselves. Elyden carefully closed the door behind him and stood in the creaky porch as the sun set into the night. Quiet and cold.

“Everything alright, Dragonborn?” A guard who was posted near the Inn asked as she pulled her steel helmet back on after finishing her mug of warm cider. 

“Hm?” Elyden looked back at the guard then gave his usual warm smile. “Yes of course, thank you for asking.”

“Just doing my job.” The guard crossed her legs as she sat on the porch and leaned her spear against the fencing. “You know, rumor is saying that there are more sights of dragons.” She looked up at him. “How are you going to stop them all?”

Elyden grimaced. “If anyone asks for me, I’ll be going for a short walk to clear my head, okay?” He gave another smile as he tugged his fluffy cloak around him closer and cast candlelight into the dimming lands. 

He knew it was risky to walk out alone in the snowy plains of Windhelm but he knew he was capable  _ enough _ to fight against any wolf or bandit. And he wasn’t even going to go so far from Kynesgrove anyway, just a short stroll to clear his head and to deliver a letter. 

Making sure that he was far enough from the town to not be so easily seen, he took out his silver ring and hesitated. How risky was it to summon upon Morokei at this time now that he knew he was a dragonborn who devoured not one, but  _ three _ souls! The fact that Morokei hadn’t simply slayed him at this point was a miracle within itself, even if he knew that his mentor wouldn’t do such a thing. Maybe.

Elyden just hoped that this wasn’t a mistake and collapsed on top of a young stump surrounded by snowberry bushes with a sigh. Was he just making this more complicated than it should be? Or was he just confused by confusing himself? But what was there to be confused about? Did he know? Probably not. 

He took a branch of snowberries and idly plopped each berry, ripe or not, into his mouth. They were always his favorite, he remembered basically engorging on them when he first moved to Skyrim. It tasted sweet with a hint of sourness but gave a burst of warmth in him. And the tea you could make with them was legendary. 

“Gods guide me.” Elyden looked back at his ring with a slight hint of guilt. Was it worth possibly bothering the lich? Or would said lich be even more furious if he  _ didn’t _ contact him? Time to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik? :Has the time arrived (flown) to restore (unkill) your ancient dominion (power-of-king)?
> 
> Geh, dii mid aar: Yes, my loyal servant
> 
> Dreh hin joor fahdon ni nu do vir Zu'u vis sahlon hin nuvah, Dovahkiin? : Does your mortal friend not now of how I can smell your presence, Dovahkiin?
> 
> Dreh hi praag zey wah naak daar malur do draaf, Thuri? : Do you need me to devour this piece of shit, Master?
> 
> Fos dreh hi hind do zey : What do you wish of me?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I plan this correctly, there will be multiple POV's with different arcs. If not, then this will just be an odd chapter that is my own personal fanservice.
> 
> But basically: Morokei god damn goofed up lmao

The familiar blue glow made Morokei flinch from the suddenness within the silent halls of Bromjunaar, but it gave him an odd sense of comfort. It meant Elyden was alive and was not yet devoured by Alduin, somehow. He frowned, he was slightly hoping that Alduin would do the job for him, just so that he didn’t have to deal with his apprentice’s quivering yellow eyes as he slit his throat. Usually such a thought would put Morokei in a state of giddiness! To imagine how much power he has over the strings of life and death in a person normally made Morokei want to dance on the high! Oh such glory!

But now he felt... _ guilty.  _ Impossible, it was ridiculous and confusing. Morokei was a Dragon Priest! One who devoured the hearts of annoying mortals to please his Divine Lords! One who sucked the life off his helpless followers to fuel his own! So why was he feeling bad  _ now _ ?

Morokei was no stranger to being betrayed and betraying, it was just part of the job for him. Just a little quirk of being a worshipper of the Draconic Gods. Simple and done. 

The lich violently shook his head and snatched back on his blue mask; he was overthinking a very simple problem. All he had to do was answer Elyden’s summons, take his dagger, and slit his throat and watch him bleed out! But what if he was being summoned because his apprentice was in trouble? What if Elyden was currently lying there alone and in the cold and Morokei was his last hope? Such an image pulled a slightly familiar sense of... _ worry _ , into the dragon priest’s dull heart.

Well good then! His job will be done then! Then he wouldn’t have to go then if it was true! Morokei sat back down on his stool besides the ongoing fire in his study and stared at the ring, waiting for it to blink again. He determined that if it glowed again in under a minute then he had to go. Just for curiosity's sake. 

It blinked again seconds later.

Morokei cursed under his breath and launched up from his seat. Why was his luck so unreliable? 

Grabbing his staff and adjusting his mask just so that he can actually see out of the wretched thing, he touched the blinking ring and a portal of his making appeared. Morokei stepped through it and found himself in a windy cold plains, but it was too dark for him to even consider thinking of where he was nor could he  _ really _ tell if it was cold. He had lost his sense ages ago but he assumed it was freezing due to the snow. 

Below him, sitting on a stump, was a bright candle light that shone in his eyes among young elf wrapped in a thick coat. Elyden looked up with a small smile, the barely mended scratches and new scars visible among his old ones. 

“Gods what had  _ happened _ to you?” Morokei hissed as he grabbed onto Elyden’s chin and turned it to the side, grimacing from how easily he could feel the bones. Had he not been getting enough to eat? Damn it all, why are mortals so needy with their living bodies?

“I was in a simple fight against Thalmor—“

“Oh fuck do they know?!” Morokei slightly panicked, he knew how much this secret meant to his apprentice. “Do you need me to go and wipe out their bases in Skyrim? Cause I can and will if they—”

Elyden gently pulled Morokei’s grasp off his face and rubbed the sores, it made Morokei feel a bit bad for hurting him. He forgot that mortals were very squishy. “No they attacked me because I am Dovahkiin, Master Morokei.”

Oh, right. Morokei quickly pulled away, feeling a bit disgusted that such a horrific heretic was in this lanky body of a man. Why couldn’t Elyden be an arse like Miraak? Would’ve made it  _ so _ much easier to put him out of his misery. But this also reminded him of the original reason why he came here. 

“Oh...Well um.” Elyden looked a bit weary at Morokei’s ever increasingly close hands towards his curved golden dagger. A flash of fear escaped his expression but he hid it with a cough. Morokei stopped and felt a heavy pang of hurt; his apprentice didn’t trust him. 

“Yes, young one?” Morokei struggled to look calm and friendly with every instinct inside him screaming at him to just pounce on him and tear his throat out. He hoped that the elf couldn’t tell, but he also hoped that he did.

“Due to my Dragonborn...ness, I won’t be able to go to your lessons as much anymore, Master Morokei.” Elyden continued as he pulled out a letter from his coat’s many pockets that was signed with his full name in nice red ink. Morokei wondered why altmer had such ridiculously long names, it cluttered up the entire envelope and did nothing but annoy him. “And can you deliver this to Savos regarding my absence?” 

Morokei quickly took it, startling both himself and Elyden from the sudden action. Divines what was wrong with him today? The dragon priest took a deep breath with his still lungs and gave a nod, he had to remain neutral to not give away anything. “Yes, be careful,  _ understand _ ?” Elyden gave a nod, trying to open his mouth to say something else but Morokei was already back in Bromjunaar. 

Screaming out angry curses at the walls with his pots of young snowberries, Morokei hurled off his mask before reconsidering his actions. He gripped onto the blue artifact, the empty face of who he really was: a monster. And he  _ loved _ it, adored the fear that he spread by simply existing, ruling over Skyrim with an iron fist simply because he was some dragon’s favorite. So what changed? What made him grow guilty at the very  _ thought _ of hurting his apprentice? 

Still holding onto the mask, Morokei paced the room, giving a warning glare to any of the draugr guards who were moronic enough to stay behind. Once he was alone he helplessly collapsed against his reading chair next to a small study with the few books he recovered from his time. And right across him and his round table was the stool where his Konahrik once sat with him during their few times together. 

“Divines, I wish you were here.” Morokei held out his mask right where Konahrik once sat, right at the level of where their head was. He remembered that they once tried on each other’s masks just for fun, he had no idea of how his spouse even wore that hunk of metal without snapping their neck. “It would be so easy, you would just kill him for me and I wouldn’t even have  _ time  _ to feel sorry.” He laughed. 

The lich lowered down his mask, hoping for a second that the one that he once gently held for when their back was sore and frustrated from their asshole coworkers. He got an empty space of air instead, but that did not discourage him from continuing: “I wonder what is wrong with me, my dear.” 

With a heavy sigh he slid down more into his more improper odd way of sitting that confused everyone. Resting his head against his clenched fist, he stared at the empty eyeholes of his blue mask. “I used to be so… _ not  _ this.” 

Silence.

Morokei looked at the door to his bedroom before casting a quick alteration spell to make sure no evesdroppers were around. “Can I confide something in you, my dear?” He knew that Konahrik stayed silent when listening intently so he sat up better and slightly whispered. “Are...are the dragon gods even  _ worth  _ it?” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you think they have learned their lesson? That  _ we  _ learnt our lesson?” 

Dead air. 

The lich frowned before rolling his eyes, Konahrik liked to play the quiet game for when they were tired. He wished that they’d at least tell him just so that it wouldn’t be  _ as  _ awkward. “I’ll be honest, my dear, I think not! I think we’re just as horrible and idiotic as before!” He gave a snark as he laughed, he got none in return so he gave a dramatic look of hurt. “Fine,  _ don’t  _ indulge in my heretic talk!” 

He looked behind the mask that he held up just at eye level to see Konahrik’s deadpanned face but got nothing but a wave of dust. Maybe they had just gone off to the side to work on papers  _ again _ . “Dick,” Morokei continued as he kicked himself off his seat and adjusted his casual dress to put on his more traditional priest outfit. “but you’re not real eh? Just me going crazy  _ as usual? _ ” 

Morokei mechanically added padding above his underdress before slipping onto a prettier dress. It was still his favorite sky blue color, but it had gotten many tears and patches over the years but neither he nor the dragon lords seemed to mind. As long as the silver embroidered words of the divines still spiraled among the edges he’d be fine. And as long as it was still a rich blue color to match his patron dragon, who was still missing, he’d keep his head. 

“Ah but you worry, my dear.” He slid the grey plates over his head and let it unfold over his shoulders and chest, adjusting his navy blue cape and gauntlets as he talked. “Since I haven’t found your body, or ghost,” Morokei stilled, the thought of even seeing their beloved’s ghost made him want to shiver. So he took Elyden’s letter and gently put it on top of a full out of dead snowberries. Then he aimed it perfectly of where Savos’ head would be and let it drop through the portal. A grin emerged from his features from the startled noises of the dunmer before closing the portal once again.

“I’ll go and do your job of awakening the rest of the Order!” He refused to look behind him for a possible reaction and pulled his mask’s hood right over his face, hiding away any sliver of hesitation he felt. Morokei summoned the Staff of Magnus and made a quick cast of a small portal right into where his first target was: Valthume.

The temple of Hevnoraak was just as disgusting as he remembered. The walls were engraved with the smeared corpses of the fellow dragon priest’s loyal followers. Frost spider eggs were everywhere among with their bastardly parents, giving him warning snaps of their jaws as if they were any threat. Morokei gave a quick jet of fire to the webs and left with the screams of the monsters behind him. 

“Welcome back my treasured friend!” The familiar ring of the owner of this temple echoed throughout the empty chambers. A blue figure materialized in front of him with short robes and a pack of rusty tools snug by his hip. “You didn’t like my pets’ hospitality?” Even with the mask on, Morokie could practically  _ smell  _ the fake pouty look of hurt. 

“They’re disgusting, like  _ you _ .” Morokei spat, crossing his arms as the ghost floated down to his level with hands casually behind his back. 

“Oh come on, even a child can come up with better, Morokei.” Hevnoraak gave a hearty laugh as he circled around the lich, giving rough pats with his golden, clawed, gauntlets. “But why are you here? You despise me.”

Morokei shrugged off Hevnoraak’s warm tone and kind voice, he knew it was just the illusion magic at work. And he would be damned if he fell victim to it like the rest. “Because Alduin has returned and I have come to awaken the rest of the Order.” 

Hevnoraak paused before spinning around on his heel to face him. He silently pulled off his steel mask, still looking alive and very much not a lich, for now. Even if he was just a transparent blue ghost, Morokei could still see the engraved dovahzul of their dragons names across his nose. The well taken care of goatee. The short hair that was put into a half ponytail to keep the locks out of his face. A pretty man, just as Hevnoraak intended to hide his true ugly self.

The ghost curled his brows and lips in disbelief before looking around for anyone else to have joined them in this meeting. But Valthume for once was silent, empty, vacant of life. 

So Hevnoraak gave a cocky smirk at Morokei’s blank masked face and cooed: “Where’s Konahrik? Isn’t this  _ their  _ job, not yours, old man?”

Morokei visibly flinched and clutched onto his staff, but stood his ground. “Their body nor ghost has been found yet—“

“I knew it!” Hevnoraak interrupted with a loud cackle, giving an innocent, foolish, childish grin. “I bet their body is at the bottom of the Sea of Ghosts!” He  _ harshly  _ poked his claws into Morokei’s unarmored parts with every single word. “Or even soul trapped! Made into a fancy pair of shoes that has been discarded like the—“

Hevnoraak’s words were cut off with a momentary sound of panic as Morokei thrust his staff right up against his throat, forcing him into silence. Before he smirked and let both Morokei and his staff phase right through him with a small giggle. “Morokei, honey, I’m dead. Oh! Just like Konahrik—“

“Shut your tongue before I  _ cut  _ it off!” Morokei spat as he stormed open the heavy doors to the main throne room. It looked the same as before but what was different was that in the middle there was a large tomb surrounded by four looming totems buzzing with magic. Totems meant to either entrap the tyrant or to release him. 

“Oh, why should I?” Hevnoraak phased out of existence before sitting right on top of his throne on the side, swinging his legs back and forth above the arms of the grand stone chair. “To be frank, I’m  _ glad _ they’re nothing but dust!” Morokei didn’t even look at the bastard. “If they were still alive,  _ I _ would be dead now that our Lords have just begun to awaken! Then make some bullshit excuse about a casualty like they always do!” 

“Good.” Morokei stopped in front of the humming tomb, he could hear the bastard’s heart still pumping. “Because at least they’re loyal to our Lords, unlike you.”

Hevnoraak scoffed with another dramatic eye roll. “Whatever you say, Morokei.”

Morokei put a hand on the tomb before pausing. What was he doing? He knew that Hevnoraak was a horrible person who should’ve been wiped out from history the second he first took his breath of life. He should be doing everyone a favor and just slit his body’s throat before he got the chance to regain his power. But that would be heretical, punishable by devourment. Even if Hevnoraak has slaughtered thousands, if not millions, just because he was bored from his new found power. Even if Hevnoraak had overtaken the tired old mind of Otar and treated him like a toddler’s puppet. Even if Hevnoraak insulted Konahrik.

“Morokei, my dear old friend,” Hevnoraak’s words took Morokei out of his damning thoughts. “I am ascending into lichdom in a different way than usual.” Morokei said nothing. “To awaken my body, I need you to retrieve my blood and to convince my jailor to release me.”

Morokei ignored his words and pushed the tomb’s heavy stone lid right onto the floor with a heavy thump. He had already spoken to Valdar earlier, but meeting Hevnoraak once again sealed the deal for him. 

Inside the coffin was the remarkably well preserved body of Hevnoraak, clutching onto that golden staff as his chest heaved up and down. Up and down. 

“Morokei, what are you doing?”

The body wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be, so he effortlessly dragged it out of the coffin just enough to get a good view of its limp head. 

“Morokei, please be careful or you’ll damage it!”

“I am aware.” Morokei pressed a blade up against the loose flesh of the corpse’s neck. “If you even think of calling any of your guards or magic I will rip your windpipes out.” 

Even if Morokei at first refused to look at him to cease any hint of hesitation, he simply couldn’t help it. Hevnoraak was quivering in both fear and rage, his fists clenched as he pulled his mask back on. To a normal person, this look struck terror into their hearts as it meant that Hevnoraak was furious and plotting in the little wheels of his head of how to murder them. But to Morokei, it filled him up with glee to know that he was scaring Brutality. That he was making Hevnoraak afraid.

“What do you  _ want _ ?” His words were dripping with venom. 

Morokei paused. What  _ did _ he want? He wanted many things. He wanted his home and world back to normal. He wanted to tear Hevnoraak into tiny pieces. He wanted Konahrik to be in his arms once more forever. He wanted to strangle Savos until he turned blue. He wanted Elyden to not be Dovahkiin and be another Miraak. “What happened to Otar?”

Hevnoraak groaned but when he showed the hint of trying  _ anything, _ Morokei dug his golden dagger up further against the thin green skin of the body and made a very good cut that would be difficult to heal without choking on your breath. The ghost stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath to stay in control, Morokei was visibly getting impatient. 

“Is this really what you’re risking  _ your  _ life for?!” Hevnoraak gripped onto his hair to stay in control but with Morokei twirling the dagger up and down past the skin. “Alright  _ fine _ ! Yes! I may or may not have tweaked his mind a bit.” When he didn’t continue, Morokei slowly traced his dagger up the corpse’s chin, slowly puncturing into it. Even though it was just a dead body, he could hear the cries of pain and panic of Hevnoraak as he clawed his throat. It was brightening up Morokei’s day, even if—

“What else do you want me to say?!” Hevnoraak screeched as Morokei used the Staff of Magnus to create a small, glowing blue ball of entombment around him and the body, his blasts of magic and yelling for guards rendering useless. “If you  _ just _ let my body go I will not speak of this  _ please, I _ promise!”

“Why should I?”

Morokei didn’t let himself hesitate as he plunged the blade right through the bottom of his chin and curved past the bone right into the important flesh. The corpse violently tried to wretch the knife off its body and back into Morokei’s chest. But it was just a corpse, the lich easily held down Hevnoraak's vessel and plunged the dagger back into its bare head again. 

And Again. The screams of agony echoed in Morokei’s skull.

And Again. Morokei’s mask was wretched off during the desperate struggle.

And  _ Again _ .

Hevnoraak’s body finally burst into ash, only the rusty armor and steel mask remained. The temple fell into silence once again. There was no shriek for mercy, no gulps for air, nor any curses of rage. Nothing. Just nothing. 

“Oh Divines.” Morokei dropped his dagger that glistened with his co-worker’s dried organs and slowly withdrew from the large puddle of ashes. A few stuck between his gauntlets and stained his skin. 

“Gods, what have I done?” Morokei whispered as he tripped on the stairs and collapsed, his armor clanking as it felt like he was shaking from the very core of his body. He slowly knelt in front of the full tomb in the throne room that was so dusty that he could practically see the particles like snow. Even if it was silent inside the vacant home, the million thoughts buzzed through his head as the realization hurled onto him like a boulder. And so he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you guys know, school is coming up so I won't be able to update as much as I used too. D:
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who reads, comments, and leaves a kudos on my work :DD It really does inspire me to continue working on this dumb ass fic when I see so many people liking it! I truly love you all and I hope yall have great lives ahead of you :DD


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delphine and Elyden show their true colors D:

“Right so,” Delphine interrupted Elyden’s thoughts as she put down her mug of warmly brewed ale and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “I was thinking of the next plan of action for us.” She said as she looked up and down at the Dragonborn in front of her.

Elyden put down his mug of snowberry tea—he didn’t like alcohol as it tasted too bitter for him—and raised a brow. “Delphine, we’re in public.” He motioned around the small Inn of Riverwood that was mostly vacant of anyone but of drunken bards for it was early in the morning. “Don’t you think it would be best if we speak about this…” He waved a hand in front of her, not sure of how open she’d want to be about being a Blade, especially after their Thalmor Encounter. “In private by the very least?”

Delphine stood up and gave a quick stretch and then rubbed her tired eyes. “Sorry, still haven’t woken up yet.” She made a face to show that it was supposed to be funny, but she looked  _ very  _ unconfident in her words. So Elyden gave a small laugh and stood up as well, wincing from his legs being pulled from their rest so soon. Delphine looked to have cheered up a bit.

“Eh don’t worry about it, let’s just get going, shall we?”

“Yes.” Delphine waved hi to Orgnar and Elyden gave him a tip for the service and followed the Blade back into the underground room underneath the Sleeping Giant. Now that he really thought of it, this whole sequence of events was really jarring. How odd his life came to be, Elyden thought. How only around a week ago or so he just found out that he was a Dragonborn and that the Blades still exist. It was both jarring and fascinating; now to survive it all!

Once the hidden panel to the basement was locked, Delphine circled around the table in the middle and plopped down an organized pile of notes and journals with maps with large circles around them. “As I was saying, Dragonborn, it’s clear that we cannot do this on our own if we hope to defeat Alduin.” She said as she shifted through her maps and notes, pausing until Elyden was leaning over the table as well. “But I have been looking for the Blades for years now and haven’t found a single trace.”

“Isn’t that good though?” Elyden asked as he idly drummed his fingers against the wood, in which Delphine gave a glare for and tapped on his thin fingers as a silent way to stop. In which he did with a slight bit of hurt but quickly whispered sorry for bothering. “I mean, just so that the Thalmor wouldn’t have a hint of you guys?”

Delphine sighed with a bit of dread before it quickly molded into boiling hate. “It’s a double-edged sword; on one hand I’m glad to deny the Thalmor bastards even a single  _ sniff _ of me and my friends’ locations.” Even if she had the same exact tone of professional calm, Elyden could easily see that boiling cauldron of rage and disgust. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be on him on a dreadfully fateful day. 

“So you have no idea of where the rest are?” Elyden said to hopefully keep her level headed. “No calling or something to summon you all?”

Delphine weaved her hands together and leaned on top of them as she looked at the cheap map of Skyrim, partially at a location near a Forsworn camp. “Well once word gets out that you’re Dragonborn, maybe they’ll reappear…” She looked at Elyden with such mixed emotions that he honestly could not tell if it was negative or not. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe. “ _ But! _ We cannot rely on just that, so we have to think of something before time runs out.”

Elyden nodded in agreement, already weary of the World-Eater who just seemed to get...bigger every single time they meet. He knew it’s as wise to be fearful of the god, Morokei had told him of many stories of ‘his Lordship and many ways to punish others from boredom’. Stories of how Alduin asked for someone to be flayed in front of him for being too slow in their speech. Stories of how Alduin could whisper into the air so angry balls of fire flew and destroyed entire cities. Stories of how Alduin could coax peasants into bumbling infancy or into crippling old age with a single Word. 

“To easily devour them!” Morokei would exclaim as if it was just a normal thing to witness, suppose it was for a Dragon Priest. Gods he hoped that his mentor wasn’t mad at him...They hadn’t talked in weeks and he was starting to get worried. Maybe he was avoiding him? Or maybe Savos finally grew tired of him? Oh gods not more for him to worry about. 

“Elyden, do you mind if I ask something a bit more personal? Not sure if this is offensive to altmer—if it is I do apologize in advance.” Delphine gave that look that every non-altmer gave to him when they wanted to ask such ‘personal questions’. 

“Sure?” Might as well get it over with. He wondered if it was about the whole breeding thing? Or if it would be about his views on the Thalmor as usual? He gave it a fifty-fifty percent chance for either. 

“How well can you lie?” Delphine straightened up her back and continued: “I mean, how well can you pretend?  _ Can _ you lie?”

If Elyden couldn’t lie, he’d have long been dead  _ way  _ before Delphine could slaughter him. “What does this have to do with me being an altmer?” He wasn’t really sure of what stereotype deemed that his kind can lie more naturally, maybe he really was behind times?

“Good enough to pretend to be a Thalmor for a day?” 

“ _ What. _ ” Elyden felt his skin turn into goose bumps and paled but he forced it back. He had to remain calm, and couldn't let anyone know. So he forced himself to relax as he tilted his head at her in confusion. “Sorry, come again?” Too much tilt, he had to be more natural. 

“You heard me right.” Delphine pointed to where the Thalmor Embassy lied in Skyrim, right above where Solitude was, where the Imperials called it their home. “It is risky—“

“Understatement of the year.” Elyden grumbled, crossing his arms as he motioned for her to continue. He didn’t like where this was going. 

If Delphine heard him, she didn’t show. “You’re an altmer, a bit too skinny but I think that if you kept your poise and tone correct, no one would ever know.” She then casually walked over to him, poking at his body and frowning at random details. “I’m thinking about getting you inside the Embassy—a Justiciar to have more free reign—and get you to find out if they know anything about the Blades.”

Elyden shrugged her off, feeling increasingly uncomfortable from her prying at his body. “Even  _ if _ that would work, the Thalmor would most likely ask me about my rank! My origin! Identification papers and—“

“Yes, yes, yes, I am quite aware.” Delphine paused then looked up and down at him with an ever increasing coldness to her eyes. Oh shit. “And how would you know of that,  _ Elyden _ ?” She put a hand to her sword.

_ Oh shit.  _ “Because the Thalmor back at the College wouldn’t stop ‘educating’ me and every other altmer who existed about the ‘errors of our ways and disgrace to our blood’.” That wasn’t an exact lie, but said Thalmor had long been torn apart by his bloodthirsty mentor. Gods that had been such a long time ago...Still pretty terrifying to think of, that there could be a fateful day when Morokei turns on him with the same glee. 

Delphine snatched her hand off the blade and instantly looked guilty, it made Elyden both feel relieved and bad. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“Eh, I’m used to it at this point.” That wasn’t a lie either, unfortunately. 

“But this means that you have an idea of how they act, right?” Delphine rested her hands against her hips and looked up at him. She seemed to have quickly discarded the previous conversation; that was for the best. 

“I suppose?” Now that was a lie. Elyden knew very well had to act like one, he had been for the majority of his life back at his old home when he worked under his mother and father. “This is too risky, Delphine.” He lowered the tone of his voice and forced himself to relax. No need to be panicking. “I think you overestimate my ability; just because I happen to be a high elf.” 

The Blade frowned and crossed her arms and motioned for him to lean down slightly so that they could be eye-level for once. “Dragonborn, this is serious. We  _ need  _ to know if there are any other Blades out there! The World-Eater is  _ here _ ! And you could barely defeat the previous dragon back at Kynesgrove without my help!” When she felt Elyden begin to squirm and look away in discomfort, she didn’t let him pull away by gripping onto his arms to make sure that he  _ only  _ looked at her. “The fate of the planet’s fate rests on your shoulders, Elyden. And you need to realize that, sooner or later.”

Divines why was he chosen for this? He didn’t like this. He didn’t want this. He was not meant for this. He never desired this. Oh gods. Divines grant him strength. Oh gods.  _ Oh gods. _

“I am aware!” Elyden pushed her off, maybe a bit too harsh for his liking but she was _too _close for comfort. He huffed and crossed his arms, pinching his neck in frigid nervousness and anger. “But you do realize how crazy this plan sounds, right? I don’t even have _some_ experience with recon!” Again, another lie, but he was not risking everything that he had built for so long just to have it all crash down on him. 

Delphine raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “I thought you were Dragonborn?” She reeked of disappointment that just dug ever so deeper into Elyden’s chest. 

“I am—“

“Then stop whining!” Delphine hissed before recoiling and biting her lip from Elyden’s expression. “ _ We _ need the Blades, Elyden.” Her voice softened as she stepped closer and took his left arm to pull him back down again to eye-level. Desperation was shaking in her aged blue eyes. “Please _ ... _ ” She said her name with such gentleness that it made Elyden feel bad for not even considering her plan, he had to think about her feelings about this too. He knew what it was like to lose all of his friends, what would he do if he had the opportunity to get them back? Even if said friends were probably the ones who had butchered hers. 

“I’m sorry…” Elyden drew out from her hold and twirled his fingers together in shame, he felt like he was shaking. The elf was being such a terrible person who didn’t consider others feelings, all he wanted was to go back to the College and hide himself in work. “I’ll do it.” He quickly said before Delphine could rightfully snap back at him. 

The Blade exhaled her breath and nodded. “I knew that we could see eye to eye, Dragonborn.” She said with an odd bit of relief, as if she was worried about what would happen if he disagreed. Elyden decided that he didn’t want to find out. 

“So how are we going to do this?” Elyden asked as he sat down on a stool nearby, crossing his legs on top in a nice comfortable way. As if nothing had happened and he wasn't on the verge of breaking. “I assume you got more to this plan, right?” The elf said with a questioning and forced smile; too obvious. His composure was crumbling, he was still shaking from the yelling. He didn't want to be a bad person again. 

“Do not worry about the documents and the uniform, I got that covered.” Delphine said offhandedly, Elyden wondered of what friends did she have that would allow her to get such items? He didn't want to risk enraging her once again, so he didn't dare ask. “But since they seem to know your basic description, I may have to either get  _ really  _ good makeup to hide your most identifiable traits.” 

Elyden drummed his fingers against his kneecaps in thought, even with makeup to hide his scars and freckles, his mug still looks the same so it would probably do most to nothing to hide his true intentions. “Maybe I can take someone’s identity with some illusion scrolls? Take their likeness and papers for a bit, then put the blame on them?” It was a bit cruel but he was slightly willing to do it. Even if it would be an innocent bystander that he could place this treasonous act on that would end in punishment, he had to remind himself that it was for the greater good. For the greater good...

Delphine leaned against the table and gave a small hum of musing as she looked up and down at him, gears turning in her head as her lips thinned. “That could work, but we need a very good illusionist to provide the scrolls as well as one who would be willing to do a bit of crime that could potentially endanger them.” 

“Good point.” Elyden reached into his pack and took out his jar of snowberries then popped a few into his mouth. He offered the Blade some but she declined with an unimpressed look, that did nothing to sate his feelings. “I don’t think the master of illusion back at the college in Winterhold is willing to do it, he is too skittish for something like this, but Enthir on the other hand…” It had nearly a month now since the elf had last been to the College and he didn’t know if Savos retrieved his letter explaining his absence. And so he had no idea of what to expect from his peers and students. 

“Enthir? That bosmer at Winterhold? He’s still around that old coot?” Delphine’s face turned to fond memories and rested a hand against his hip. “I honestly would not be surprised if he had the means to give us the spell  _ and  _ the Thalmor documents needed.” Elyden gave a small laugh at that, he honestly became used to the ‘antics’ that his friend would go into. He wonders how he even manages to stay alive with the stunts he does with nonchalance. “We could try…Are you well acquainted with him?”

“We’ve known each other since when we were both students, so I hope so.” Elyden said with a warm laugh to hide that bit of an ache in his chest. He missed his friends back at the College, he hoped he hadn’t been absent on  _ too  _ many interesting things in the time he was at Whiterun under Farengar. Maybe J’zargo didn’t blow up the lab again with his flame cloak spells this time again but that was unlikely. He would be proud nevertheless. “But I am worried about the amount of time we’ve got to prepare beforehand.”

Delphine looked back at her many notes and shuffled through them until she pulled up a collection of very nice and expensive papers that were stained with a bit of blood. She held it up to the light with squinted eyes and muttered some words before looking back at the Dragonborn. “As from what I could tell from my Aldermiris, there is going to be a party of some sort in the next two months from now, where everyone can be distracted from your true intentions.” 

The elf motioned for her to hand over the papers to make sure she got the translations right, she hesitated at first but did pass them over. He gave a nod of confirmation that she got the basic translation right, it was apparently going to be on Loredas of the Second Seed, giving them only a month and a half to prepare. So no time at all. Shit. 

“Do you know of any other people out there who could help in significantly less time?” Delphine asked as she took the papers back and placed them into a neat pile on the little space she had left on the wooden table in the middle of the room. She got a shake of a head no. “Damn it…well what about this, I get the Thalmor body and you try to get your friends at college, sounds good?”

Elyden was about to agree but he stopped to think about this. Even if he was the one who brought an ancient dragon priest to school when Ancano was going mad with Magnus’ power. As well as the one who just accidentally let Morokei become the local cryptid of Winterhold, he was not sure of Enthir’s willingness to go along with this plan. Enthir was willing to do anything, but not  _ just  _ anything, at least without a hefty price. Or something that could endanger him  _ this  _ badly.

“Something wrong?” 

There were many things wrong but he did not dare to answer that with the threat of being reminded that he was a bad person. “Oh no, I was just thinking of the best route in the least amount of time.” Elyden knew he could just ask to use Morokei’s portals, but he was unsure of his reaction. Everyday contact from his mentor grew less and less. 

The lich used to check in at least once every three days to make sure that he ‘wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere without me aware.’.”. But it slowly became every four days, the meeting was quick and sparse with a hint of a coldness from his mentor. It scared Elyden with how the frost formed on his beard from the pure anger that emitted from him, it reminded him of the horrors that he saw within Bromjunaar’s dungeons. Dungeons that his teacher gleefully kept full with experiments.

Then on the next five days, Morokei came by without notice. He was very jittery and over protective, gifting him a new beautiful wooden beaded necklace to resist magic to add onto the collection, it was designed to look floral. The next day, Morokei came by to make sure that he  _ really _ was wearing the necklace carved with enchantments, nearly breaking his ribs from how tight he was hugging him. He begged the elf to never ever take it off in fear of what would happen if he ever did, his voice was quivering. It was rare that Elyden ever heard Morokei’s voice ever crack. It felt nice to get hugged.

Then silence. Nothing. No words or presence. Not even a letter. He prayed that Alduin didn’t get him, nor that he joined back with his cult.

Delphine softened and nodded, sitting there awkwardly as the strumming of the lute echoed from the Inn and all the way into the underground basement. It was an uncomfortable silence, so much so that Elyden lost his picture smile and already began to pack up. But as he was adjusting his papers and notes, the Breton woman took his hand, her hands were freezing from that chilled ale she drank earlier, and waited for him to look down at her. Her eyes darted away and expression twisted into a mix of guilt and embarrassment. “Dragonborn—Elyden?”

“Yes? What’s wrong?” Elyden turned to face her better, eyebrow raised and lips turned in a bit of curiosity to look friendlier. To  _ be _ friendlier, he reminded himself. He was friendlier, yes he was, he had to be.

The Blade took a deep shallow breath and finally looked at Elyden in his piss-yellow eyes. “I am sorry for snapping at you earlier. It was wrong and irrational of me.” 

Elyden’s ears and expression lowered as he realized what this was. “Delphine, it’s okay.”

“No it’s—”

  
  
“No really!” Elyden interrupted, slowly pulling out of her limp hold as he backed away. “I was being irrational and you snapped me out of it!”

“No you weren’t—“

“Goodnight Delphine!” Don’t look at her. Do not look at her. He did not need to see her face. He did not need to be reminded of his actions tonight. He did not need more reasons to hate himself. 

“Elyden—“

The Dragonborn already left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who read and like and comment on my dumbass fic! I love you all, if it weren't for y'all I wouldn't have continued on with this and interacted with y'all! Y'all are so nice..........
> 
> But since school is back, my updates will be slower! As college grades are of higher priority to me D:
> 
> I love you all, especially to my Beta Reader <3, and have a great day!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyden visits the College of Winterhold, his home, for the first time in months. Wonder how that will go?
> 
> Warning: Toxic thoughts, gore, death, crying, emotional breakdowns

It was a warm morning, which was rare for the springs of Whiterun’s land. The peaking sun felt like heaven against Elyden’s chilled skin as he strolled further and further from Riverwood. A small smile was brought up to his face as he climbed higher above a worn hill to watch the sun rise, pink rays oozing throughout the skies and painting the jagged blue mountains. No matter how many times he saw the sun creep into the clouds in his sixty-nine years alive, it had always amazed him. And to think that Alduin wanted to devour it all.

Giving a quick stretch to his already tired legs, he scanned his surroundings. No mill or small hunting group was near and he was far away enough from Riverwood’s morning guard patrol. Only ones who were with him were the shady trees and the loud birds. Good.

From here he could see the tips of Bromjunaar, where apparently the dragons loved to perch on to cool off with the snow storms. Or to Shout bursts of fire into the sky to terrorize the population. 

Elyden relaxed his shoulders and gave another stretch, in case Morokei was in a ‘bad mood’ again so that he could easily scatter away. He was honestly fearful of his mentor, especially now that the dragons have re emerged. But maybe it was wise to be scared of an undead ex-cultist who revealed in giving Savos heart attacks. Maybe. But said ex-cultist had never been cruel to him, always helped him and never hurt him. 

The elf rubbed the silver ring and out formed a portal between some young trees; good so far. He loosened his shoulders and put his hands on his hips, giving a small smile at the gleaming blue portal. “Master Morokei?” He made sure to roll his r’s properly in dovahzul. No one came out of the portal. “I apologize if it is a bother but can you get me to Winterhold? I have some business to do there-” 

“What sort of business?” Morokei’s claw-like hands and masked face popped out, looming over Elyden. A dim blue glowed from the creaks and cracks of the lich’s skin, fueled from the Eye of Magnus’ power, and it felt _ cold _ . Cold and _ cruel, _unlike the usual warmness he got from his mentor’s presence. 

“I need to get some items delivered, as Savos told me in the letter.” Elyden said with crossed arms, his heart pounding out of his chest. 

Morokei fully stepped out, despite only reaching up to Elyden’s collarbone in terms of height, Elyden felt small and inferior to the Dragon Priest. “I never gave you the letter of Savos’ response as there was none.” Oh shit. “Are you _ lying _to me?” Oh Divines this was a mistake. 

But then the lich suddenly put a hand to his chest, shoulders slumped and glowing, as he backed away in shock. “You _ don’t _trust me…?” 

Wait, what? Was this a test? Was this a trick? Or was Morokei being genuine? Elyden really could not tell so he gave a confused shrug. He _ did _trust Morokei, he knew him for nearly a decade now but this was the first time he acted this way. He wasn’t sure what to think of him now. 

Morokei scoffed in hurt and turned his back to him, arms crossed and feet tapping against the mossy floor with a soft squishy noise every time. “I _ cannot _ believe that you _ still _have doubts about me!” He turned his head to him and took off his blue mask, it seemed like he had recently washed his left silver prosthetic eye as it was a lot shinier than usual. “If I really wanted to hurt you I would’ve have done it a loooooooooooooooooooooooooong time ago.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing.

Elyden pinched his neck and gave a nervous, wry smile that was slowly faltering under Morokei’s gaze. “Well I-”

“No lies!” Morokei quickly interrupted before pausing for a second. “If you are going to have to in the future though—but not to me of course or you’ll hurt my feelings—do half truths! It’s much easier to back up with!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Master Morokei, but as I was saying…” Elyden felt his heart pounding, and began to sweat as he tried to think of a way to word this without potentially offending the lich. Morokei relaxed his overexaggerated posture and instead took to resting a limp hand against his hip as he tilted his head at the elf. It did nothing to relax him knowing that Morokei was paying _ extra _ attention now. “How do I know that that trust hasn’t changed now that I am Dovahkiin? Something that your culture despises since I am able to kill your gods permanently...?”

Morokei visibly tensed, gripping onto his hips with his clawed hands that dug deep into his loose flesh past his long gown. And when he tried to step closer, he hesitated when Elyden backed off himself with a weary hand on his sword. He frowned and ‘relaxed’ once again. “You’re my apprentice, Elyden.” He simply said as if that answered anything. “If I wanted to hurt you in any shape or form, I would’ve done so.” He repeated with the most obvious tone.

Elyden said nothing and gave only a nod of acknowledgement, suppose that was the closest thing he will ever get to an answer. It did calm down his paranoia, or logic depending on how you look at it, about the issue. But the feeling that this was maybe a ruse still lingered, he didn’t like the thought so he pushed it away for the time being.

“What are you really planning to do, young one?” Morokei stepped closer after Elyden relaxed to ruffle his hair with some fondness. Before grimacing and settling for a small pat on the cheek instead. “Haven’t you washed yet?_ I _can even feel the greasiness!”

Elyden tried to nudge Morokei’s claws off his scalp. “I plan to wash it later tonight, you know my hair easily dries...” He replied after giving a small genuine smile at the lich, at least he washed his face. “But I am basically going to ask Enthir if he is willing to commit possible war crimes with me to find the Blades.” The elf paused and crossed his arms, giving a small squeeze to try to warm up in the morning air. “And to visit him and the rest back home, I miss them…”

Morokei knocked his head to the side then shrugged. “Enthir has nothing that I got in terms of highly illegal items, but do tell him hi for me.” Morokei gave one last ruffle of his hair before quickly fixing it up into a lazy ponytail. Then he turned around and spawned in a second portal, a small blizzard emitted from it and the soft sounds of Winterhold’s Inn’s music hummed around it. The lich pulled up Elyden’s hood for him, giving him a rough pat on the head with a smug grin at his expression. “Don’t die! And tell me if you still need someone to do illegal activity for you if Enthir is too pussy to do it!” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Master Morokei! And thank you and...bye?” Elyden gave a small smile as Morokei gave a slight bow before disappearing into his own portal that closed behind him. Only thing that was left of his presence was Morokei’s usual warmth that still lingered. 

Winterhold was cold, harsh, and empty. And Elyden always had a soft spot for the vacant snowy desert of Skyrim, though it may be because that’s where he lived and worked for...twenty years now that he thought about it...But he also always felt free and large here. So much space for him to roam over and so many snowberries; the collection of souls inside him either agreed or violently disagreed. He tossed aside their mindless words for now.

It was a small campus town, still slowly rebuilding over the years as the increase of students forced the Jarl to _ finally _do something about his crumbling empire. The Inn had a remake; it grew larger with an underground meadery and kitchen. There was finally a smith, where one of his students now works as the silversmith, he is so proud of her. And there were many many homes filled with new merchants, mages, wizards, and miners. 

And right between the smith and the Inn that was a few steps from the College’s entrance, a small cozy house that he calls home waited. It was kept warm and clean with the soul gems that he liked to collect. Elyden could not wait to get home, maybe pour some wine with Enthir and the rest. To get full of alcohol and pastries. Oh gods but he’d have so many papers to grade, truly he was back then.

But something was not right, as soon as he stepped closer to the large gates of Winterhold, it was vacant of the usual grumpy guards and the Hold was _ too _ quiet; no screams of nordic joy from the Inn nor of the smith working hard at her furnaces. Elyden casted ebonyflesh and quickly paced through the empty homes until the familiar pull of a dragon’s soul made him pale in realization. He sprinted towards an odd shimmer of a dome that trapped a small squirming blue dragon adorned in broken arrows and ice spikes struggling under the hold of Savos’ magic. It looked bloody, teeth torn out from battle, wings burnt into nothing, bones cracked, open gaping wounds with guts spilled and painting the snow. It should be dead. Why the _ fuck _wasn’t it dead?!

As he drew closer, the dragon visibly shrieked and struggled, screaming out incoherent words as they tried to run _ away _ from Elyden. Something deep inside him gave a grin of pride at the sight of the giant beast being _ mortified _ at the sight of him. Elyden tried to get inside the dome but it pushed him back with an angry jolt of electricity. He realized that it was too quiet due to the dome practically shielding the town from the dragon’s wrath, oh fuck. How can he get inside to help now!? Too many students were already bleeding and down! He _ had _to help!

The dragon became more violent in its movements as it struggled to escape, but that made it a lot more reckless. And so J’zargo managed to get a clear shot of fire at the dragon’s gaping wounds, bursting everything inside it belly into a hot explosion; Elyden never felt so proud. Everyone screamed and ducked for cover from the burst of burnt guts and boiling blood. Soon the familiar glow of the dovah’s soul effortlessly pushed through the dimming dome and swirled around Elyden. He staggered as the overwhelming feeling of fear and agony overwhelmed him before it turned into a dull nothing. Only a small lingering feeling among his collection that squirmed inside him. 

Savos’ dome collapsed and Elyden felt all eyes draw to him so he quickly pulled his hood down to hide his red face. Everyone practically swarmed him, one yelling at him as if to why he didn’t come sooner, another in hysterics that the Dragonborn was here, some accused him as if to why the dragons are here, other called him a skilled illusionist as only nords can be Dovahkiin. It all sounded the same to him. Usually this made him antsy and scared but now he felt...angry. Furious actually. The ones he trapped inside him were seeping into his head and _ demanded _ that he showed them his power. That he was a _ dragon _and would not tolerate behavior like this! It was oddly tempting, very tempting…

“Divines’ sake!” Savos Aren pushed aside everyone and grasped Elyden’s wrist then pulled him aside, making sure that he didn't see the Jarl’s glares but failed as Elyden was _ so _ much taller than the dunmer. “Elyden, my office, _ now _.” The altmer had no say in the matter as Savos dragged him away from the dense crowd. Elyden thought that he would be let go as soon as they got inside but he was very much wrong as Savos hauled him right into his office and slammed the door that echoed throughout the large dome of a room. All noise from the outside world was cut off and only the giant clock hanging in the center of the room’s ticking was heard.

Elyden drummed his fingers against each other and stepped back just in case, even if Savos isn’t really a violent man—at least from what the Savos that he knew of. “Sir…?”

Savos took a deep breath and spun around, looking up and down at Elyden, scrutinizing every single detail before giving a tired old sigh with a pinch to his brow. “So it _ was _ your letter and Morokei wasn’t messing with me again.”

“Sir—”

The Archmage put up a hand to silence him and gestured for the Dragonborn to sit down at the chair across from his office desk. Elyden nodded and sat down, very much confused at what was going on. Oh gods was this even a good idea to go to the College now that they knew he was Dragonborn? He hoped Savos didn’t approve of experimentation on his body. 

With a snap of his fingers, Savos began to heat up some tea that apparently helped with stress and joint pain then took out the letter that was sent over a week ago among a large neat pile of papers. Then gently sat down, flipping over the cheap letter with nice ink multiple times as if to check for runes, apparently Morokei had a knack for casting runic traps. “So you’re Dragonborn?” The Archmage got a nod and had to put up a hand to silence the altmer again. “For a month you said?” 

Elyden thought for a second then nodded again. “About so, yes.” Gods it felt longer than that. He subconsciously put a hand around his Akatosh and Auri-El Amulets that hung around his neck as something told him it was _ much _longer than that. But this time he could not tell if it was the dovah that squirmed inside him that insisted this or if somethi—someone much older than them whispered those words in his ears. Elyden was not sure if he liked either idea and decided now was not the time to deal with such thoughts.

The Archmage offered a cup to Elyden who politely declined, so instead he took a quick sip of his own. He looked to have felt much better as his shoulders loosened and expression softened. “Suppose that’s why you have studied the Dragon Cult for so long, I wonder if it is subconscious?” Elyden said nothing to that. “So why haven’t you come over earlier? You know that we would’ve loved to study you.” 

Elyden pinched his neck and shrugged. “I was busy trying to figure out my next step of actions now that I can apparently eat dragon souls, and the Blades have contacted me along with the Greybeards.” That same fear from earlier began to creep back in when Savo’s gaze made him feel more of an exotic creature rather than himself. He shouldn’t have come. “I am off to find the rest of them to complete my...destiny I suppose?”

“The Blades?”

“Yeah, the ones who were assigned to protect the Septims and Dragonborns. ”

  
  
“Ah, _ them _? I didn’t know they still existed. Surprised the Thalmor haven’t gotten them all now, how fortunate for you.”

“Yep!” Elyden felt awkward here; ansty and trapped. A caged animal. “Is this all that you wanted to tell me, si—” Right, The Archmage didn’t like to be called that. “Savos?”

Savos scrunched his face in thought and put down his beautifully crafted dunmer cup of hot tea, leaning his chin against his fist as he analyzed every single part of Elyden like an hot new experiment. “How long do you plan to stay before your…” He searched for the right words. “Dragonborn _ duties _arise?” 

Elyden looked down at his hands and practically forced himself to look back at the Archmage. He felt his aura of calm crumbling. “Hopefully not long, I have a time-sensitive job to do.” 

“I will not pry as I probably won’t get it,” Savos stood up and gave a quick stretch. “But do know that now that the whole town seen your abilities, you should be wary. As nords still dislike us for our magic and you’ll be a new target.” 

“Yes, sir—Savos, I know.” Elyden gave a wry smile as he also began to stand up as soon as he was sure that he was allowed too. “Do you know where Enthir is? I wanted to speak to him about something.” 

Savos Aren was already about to unlock the doors before looking back at him with a raised brow. “_ Please, _ refrain from doing illegal activity _ again _, Elyden.” He sighed with a bit of frustration. “I do not need more angry letters piling up on my desk this week.” 

“Of course, Aren.” Elyden gave a reassuring smile, unfortunately it was not the first time he had lied to his boss’s face. Nor would it be the last at this rate. “Well, try.” He laughed to give into the genuineness. 

Savos rolled his eyes, whether or not he bought the bluff didn’t matter at this point. “Enthir is probably still outside tending to the others—I hope so at least.” He nudged his torn and burnt robes and already began his descent to the courtyard to make sure that no one died again. 

Elyden let go of the breath he was holding and shook out all of the nervousness that were stubborn enough to still cling onto him. Alright, so that was over with, now for the harder part: to meet everyone else. 

He straightened his back and walked towards the door, freezing before the door handle. Why did he stop? What was there to be afraid of? He knew all of these people.

His hands began to shake so he carefully tucked it away under his armpit, believing that he was just cold. Elyden wasn’t the wisest person out there, he had been told many times that he was dense of all logic and sense from everyone alike, but he knew how to feel scared. And he was terrified of how others would treat him. 

Maybe they’d treat him inhumanly, like an odd monster to prod at like a student would to a dead frog. Forgetting that he was still just a person and seeing him as a smaller dragon who was safer to poke at. Or possibly the opposite like many of the surviving Helgan’s guards say: “we should cut yer’ head off before you do the same to us”while gesturing to the giant dragon skull that hung above the throne in Dragonsreach.

Maybe he’d get shunned, as ancient nords were apparently the only ones to be Dragonborn and that he was hogging up space for a proper hero to emerge. Or get shunned as he was the reason, possibly at least, of why the wretched dragons are here. Getting blamed for one’s children getting devoured like mice or for their homes getting turned into a horde. 

Or they’d treat him like a god, like the second Talos in the flesh only much more elfyier, he still could not figure out if it was a way to get to his good side or not. Both made him equally extremely uncomfortable but it oddly fit just right at home deep inside. Elyden was starting to fear the ones inside him slowly seeping into his thoughts. Or was the feeling always there? He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get that answer nor if he ever wanted it. 

“Elyden?” Enthir pushed open the doors, making the altmer stagger back in surprise, and stepped out with a bit of a limp to his right knee. He didn’t look _ too _ bad, his undercut was slightly singed as well as his robes but luckily he was very good at the ebonyflesh spell. But it did not protect the bosmer from the thick scraps of skin hanging from his fully bandaged right arm and leg, it looked to have been hurting a _ lot. _“Savos told me that you asked for me?” He did not dare show the fact that the pain medication barely helped as it would ruin the image of Professor Enthir who had no fear of authority nor consequences. 

“Dear Akatosh, are you alright?” Elyden paled at the thought of Enthir screaming out in agony as the dragon nearly tore the wood elf’s limbs off. Oh divines, why couldn’t he have come sooner? He could’ve saved more, could’ve prevented _ this. _ “You look awful—”

“Rude.” Enthir gave a smug grin as he waved away Elyden’s healing hands spell. “And here I thought I always looked good?” He tried to rest his fists against his hips but winced whenever he dared try to move his right arm’s sling. 

Elyden forced out a smile despite the panicking thoughts raging inside him. “Of course you do, hon.” He nudged Enthir’s warm ears before losing his smile. “How many did we lose?”

Enthir’s usual shit-eating expression also faded to his rare moments of seriousness. “We lost twenty-five of our security and fourteen students studying in the courtyard when the dragon first came.” His ears flexed back against his head and brown eyes turned dull. “We lost six graduates and Sergius.” 

“Oh gods…” Elyden squeezed his amulets, not caring that the sharp edges cut into his quivering hands. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t come sooner…”

  
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Enthir switched to his usual tone of voice, as if the deaths were not plaguing him. To this day, despite the two decades Elyden knew Enthir, he still could not tell if the bosmer was truly that heartless or if it was all a ruse. He supposed it didn’t matter as he was probably the same. “I doubt you could be all over Skyrim 24/7 to kill dragons.” 

“Right…” Elyden wished he did, he did not want anymore blood on his hands. 

Silence fell into Savos’ office once more, only the slight bubbling of local tea and the large metal clock’s ticking was heard inside the room. It was like a seperate vacuum, Elyden knew of the spell to cut out all noise from outside as he used it many times himself but now it felt _ choking _. Cold and empty. He wondered if it would be better if he could hear the cries downstairs? His hairs stood up at the thought. 

“Anyways!” Enthir clasped Elyden’s back and began pushing him downstairs. “I say we talk about whatever war crimes you want me to commit for you later in my office after you—”

“Later?” Elyden’s heart stilled in horror as he slowly realized what his friend was saying.

“Well, it will take a while to _ get _ to my office in the first place since it’s a completely different building.” The bosmer continued as he struggled to get down the stairs until Elyden made him lean against him for support. He sighed in relief from the weight lifted off his busted knee but said nothing as nothing was needed. “And secondly! We _ all _ want to know how the _ fuck _ did _ you _ get to be dragonborn?! How does it work? _ Why _ does it work? What happened to you _ physically _ ? _ Sooo _ many questions!” 

Elyden pinched his neck and focused on the stairs to avoid Enthir’s eyes. “I-I am not sure about this…”

“Don’t get cold feet, you lanky twink!” Enthir insisted as he struggled to push the heavy wooden door with only one arm before remembering he knows magic and used that instead to effortlessly open it. “I’ll make sure they don’t dissect you or something.” Elyden was not sure if that was a joke or not, but he assumed so since the bosmer gave his usual wink and grinning teeth of when he was doing a jest. Enthir’s usually clean teeth were bleeding and many were missing or cut into his gums from the battle earlier today. Enthir was very lucky to be alive. Elyden’s weight of guilt crushed deeper into his soul. 

The bright room of the main corridor that was the golden jewel of Winterhold was filled to the brim with citizens, students, professors, guards, and even war dogs who managed to survive. It smelled of sour blood, bitter healing potions, and faked smiles. Though many were ecstatic that they got to be so close to a dragon and that they now own a full dragon’s skeleton right at their doorstep, many also were clutching onto their knees and silent as they had just witnessed many things that none had seen for many generations. 

And in the farthest corner, away from the hysterical citizens, was a section dedicated to the dead. There were so many body bags, all tagged with whatever they could identify the fallen with; snapped rings, burned textbooks, melted necklaces, charred bags. But not all were lucky to be named, as some remains had to be scooped into a small box as only a hand remained from the wrath of the dragon. 

Elyden’s heart pounded against his ears as he hid behind a wall, making sure that he was not visible in public as Enthir easily dragged him out. He felt as if his chest would burst; so many were_ dead _because of him! He should have come earlier. He shouldn’t have left. He should’ve tried harder. He shouldn’t have been delaying his return. 

“Enthir, I can't—

“Don’t be a coward.” Enthir teased, at least Elyden hoped, and pushed the altmer out. “It doesn’t look good on you.” 

The Dragonborn quickly pulled his hood over his lowered and reddening ears to try to hide his eyes. But he was so tall, well average for a high elf, that it did nothing to hide his embarrassment. All voices were hushed into whispers and all eyes were trained onto him, Enthir bounced on his feet in slight awkwardness and was about to nudge Elyden to do _ something _.

“Holy _ shit _Elyden!” J’zargo shouted, ignoring nearly every adult telling him to mind his goddamn language. “J’zargo saw you absorb that dragon’s soul thing! That was amazing! How did you do that???” The khajiit ran up in his face, ignoring the healer’s insistence for him to sit down and relax as not to mess up on the restoration spells. He looked not too bad, the majority of his fur survived the fire and only his left wrist was encased in bandages. Thank the Divines, the young man was alive. 

“I have absolutely no idea.” Elyden genuinely smiled at one of his many students and slightly lowered his hood. “But I saw that you bursted that dragon’s organs, I am so proud!”

J’zargo visibly lit up and gave a proud nod himself with hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “Of course I did! Because J’zargo is—”

“J’zargo, don’t you dare take all of the credit for yourself!” A student shouted back, wincing from nearly having all of their body burnt into a crisp. They were wrapped in bandages and only parts of their face was shown, it looked to be a new student as Elyden didn’t recognize them. They looked to be fortunate to be alive. 

J’zargo stuck out his tongue before being pulled back down harshly by one of the professors who Elyden recognized as Colette Marence to continue working on his completely crushed tail. The master of restoration looked to have barely gotten a scratch, which was barely a surprise to Elyden. He was just glad that she was okay. She paid him no mind. 

“So is the dragon gone?” One of the guards asked Elyden with an urgency to her voice, getting a deathly grip on her signed longbow. “For _ good _?” Her helmet was off so Elyden could see the quaking fear and rage in her teary eyes.

Enthir looked at Elyden with the same look, but twisted his lips in a way that made him look more curious. “Yeah, it didn’t die even with it’s belly nearly blown off until you came by?”

  
“Ah yeah well from what I could tell it only dies when a dragonborn is around to absorb their soul...” Elyden pinched his neck as more similar questions flooded in. 

“How can you do it?”

“Oh well I—”

“Why can _ you _do it?!”

“I am not sure—”

“Why the _ fuck _ didn’t you come earlier?! We nearly _ died. _ ” A professor shouted from across the room, spatting out all his boiling hate with a quivering lip as he stood over some small child’s corpse that barely looked human. He glared at Elyden with such _ hate _, that it only dug of how deeply Elyden had royally fucked up. 

“Please let me answer one at a time.” Elyden pulled his hood over his head, trying to think of a way to just leave as his hands violently shook. He can’t do this. 

Enthir gave a small pat on the back to try to comfort, the altmer appreciated the gesture.

“Can you teach others? We need that power!”

“I do not know—”

“Why do you not know these things? Oh _ gods _ did Kynee send us a-”

“I’ll answer when you’re all recovered okay thank you and goodbye and be careful don’t die please I beg of you!” Elyden quickly got out the door and into the courtyard, where the scattered dragon skeleton was about to be torn apart from scholars, soldiers, and curious people alike. 

“Are you the Dragonborn? Thank you so much for—” A guard with a missing forearm casually said as they leaned against their peer for support.

“Gods it’s _ you _? You look a bit scrawny for a hero.” Their companion cut off, looking up and down at Elyden with clear disappointment and disgust.

“Are you nordic by any chance? There’s no way an _ elf _ can be the Dovahkiin!” Another said with genuine curiosity as a crowd slowly gathered away from the dragon’s rapidly depleting skeleton.

“I got to go and get something okay good okay bye!” Elyden once again ran away from the confused group and tried his best to ignore the rest who tried to talk to him along the way. He can’t. He cannot. Not now. Not ever. He just got here. He _ just _got here.

Suddenly he found himself inside his office, completely untouched from the public besides the pile of mail and homework he had yet to touch. Elyden quickly locked his door and slammed his back against it. His heart slowed as he slid down to the cold tile floor not covered by altmer-esc rugs. 

Oh gods what was _ wrong _ with him? Why did he run? Why did he _ run? _He should’ve stayed behind and helped. He should’ve answered their questions. He should’ve remained strong and courageous and not chicken out. He should've been the Dovahkiin they needed, someone who he wasn’t.

Elyden gripped onto the amulets of Akatosh and Auri-El and oddly felt a bit gross from it, what kind of Dovahkiin was he? He looked up past his stone ceiling and asked the Divines above if they’d at least give him some guidance on what he is supposed to do. Maybe gift some strength and courage? Weave out a sign for him to use among his new path? He waited a good minute for an answer; he got none. Suppose that’s all he deserved; what a hero.

Outside of his office he heard a few mummers of a conversation, he caught whispers of Faralda and Enthir but not the rest of his friends. Elyden prayed that they were just busy recovering instead of being wrapped up for a burial. But the slight feeling that they did not care to visit him hung in his throat. Or maybe that they were so disgusted by him, that they could not stomach seeing the coward. He did not like either of those thoughts. 

“Elyden, why are you locked up in your room?” Faralda knocked on the door, she sounded exhausted and defeated. Auri-El, please let her be okay. 

Guilt rode up in Elyden’s throat as he hid his face between his knees that he had tucked up against his chest. “I…” Dear Akatosh, why was he such a child? “I have no excuse, I got overwhelmed.” He struggled to sound both sound professional and to force the disgusting tears out of his voice. He had no excuse to be crying. He was nearly seventy years old and now a slayer of dragons, and yet here he was! Crying about social pressures that he probably—he hoped—made up. How _ pathetic _. For once, the souls inside him agreed with him.

More whispers surfaced behind the doors, Elyden forced himself to stay calm and professional. He was a Professor on Enchanting and an Expert on the Dragon Cult! He had to act like it!

“Look, I’m sorry for forcing you to—” Enthir started.

“No need to apologize!” Elyden quickly interrupted, feeling more guilt for being such an ass building up in his chest. “I just need a moment, I’ll make up some excuse later.” He forced a smile and looked up at the door as if it was a person. 

There were a few moments of silence that drew out too long, Elyden thought that they left until he heard a bit louder exchange of words. He didn’t dare pay attention so he ignored it. Either out of respect for their privacy or for fear of what they said, he could not tell.

“Is this about you being Dragonborn now?” Enthir asked with a small laugh, it did nothing to heal Elyden’s thoughts. If anything, he misinterpreted them as snickers for how he reacted, at least he hoped. He hoped a lot today. “Elyden, come on, you’ll be _ fiiiiine _—” The bosmer quietly said ow when someone jabbed him in the stomach. 

“If anything, I’m glad it’s you rather than some stuck up Nord in the bumfuck of nowhere who believes that every elf is a Thalmor.” Faralda said with the most poise and elegance like a proper altmer. Elyden was not really surprised that Faralda cursed, she usually does in front of her peers. But he was a bit surprised at her words, he wasn’t sure if he just _ really did _ think that his loved ones thought so poorly of him or if he was just being paranoid. Maybe a mix of both. 

When Elyden didn’t reply Faralda audibly sighed—she was getting tired of him, Elyden concluded—and continued on: “From what Aren told us, you barely became a Dragonborn so it’s expected of you to be still shocked and in process of adjusting to being who you are.”

Enthir gave a snort. “Honestly, I would think an imposter took your place if you _ didn’t _come over all scared!”

Elyden lowered his ears as his soul was crushed as he hugged his chest closer. “Am I really that much of a craven?” He whimpered too loudly, which resulted in Enthir getting hit again which deepened his sorrow. Then it was true, his best friend, someone who he knew from when he first moved to Skyrim as Elyden, thought of him as a _ coward _. His heart felt like it was going to shatter and break upon the cold stone below. 

“Faralda?” The male altmer managed to croak out as harsher whispers slowly became shouts. 

“Yes?” The older professor asked, poised and unbreaking. Divines, Elyden wished he knew her secret to remaining calm and emotionless. 

“How long were you all fighting the dragon?” 

“Two hours.” 

Elyden sucked in a breath. “T-T—T-Two ho—ours…?” 

“Yes, we wouldn't have made it if you didn’t come.” She said as if that would heal the wounds that Elyden had no right of carrying. 

“How many do you think are out there locked in the same combat as you were? Endlessly fighting an awakened old god without me to—“

“Elyden I swear to any Divines above listening, I will _ break _down this door if you don’t stop thinking like that!” Faralda lost her cool and her words were nothing but salt to Elyden’s ears. “I have done it before and I may only have one leg remaining but by the gods I still have the might!” A heavy thump was slammed against the door as if to demonstrate. 

Elyden jumped back and pranced away from the door, as if weary it would crash down and reveal his state. “Faralda _ please _ just give me time to _ calm _ down!” He hysterically cried out, gripping onto his chest as if that would hold him together. “People are _ dying _because of me!” 

He didn’t give a chance for any of them to respond. “I was given _ zero _ warning for this! I wasn’t given some fantastical sign of my destiny! I wasn’t given prophetic dreams of my future! I just suddenly _ was _ .” His cheeks were burning and salty from how much he was sobbing. “I just n-n—need time and all I am doing is burning it away being a pathetic _ coward _.”

“Elyden you’re not a coward—“

“Just leave me _ alone _ !” Snot clogged up his throat and his legs collapsed to the hard floor with a hard smack. “ _ Please… _” He begged as he knelt down to the ground as if that would help his pounding headache and bursting heart.

The whispers disappeared and it was all silent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear it will not be so grim all the time, it's angst to fluff after all UwU
> 
> Tell me if I should add more tags after this heavy chapter
> 
> On the bright side, if you were curious of how Elyden looked like, here you go!: https://a-tired-elf.tumblr.com/post/190682537429/ill-be-honest-i-have-played-the-college-of


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it has been a while, midterms came up and at the time of writing this the plague is still around so...Interesting times! But this isn't as plot heavy as the others so I am sorry for that! But! The plot should get kicking back in after this OWO

There were plenty of things that Morokei misses from his old ‘cultist life’; his spouse, his loved ones, his companions, and all of that smuck. But what he missed was the  _ power  _ he wielded over others. The remaining draugr back at Bromjunaar were too few for him to properly exercise his ‘power kink’ as the youngsters called it, whatever the fuck that meant. Each generation he witnesses just mutates to something weirder each time. Though he really cannot have a word on what counts as weird as he is a blue glowing lich slightly possessed by Magnus’ power who has morality issues and once worshipped giant dragons on the promise that he gets to live forever if he does so. Is  _ he  _ part of the weird generation? No, he is too old for that. Is he? He is—well was—considered young at the ripe age of three hundred and something back before Miraak fucked everything over in comparison to the rest of the priests who were so old, that they have been around when Ysagamor was still a young man. 

“Morokei.” Savos’ usual distasteful tone around the lich brought him  _ much _ joy. “Why are you hanging upside down on my tree?” The dunmer sighed as he locked the door behind his office and shielded his eyes from Morokei’s very bare chest, what a coward. 

“Trying to see how long it takes before my mask falls off.” Morokei said as if it was the most obvious thing ever as he nudged his robes that hung over his face. He casually itched at his open ribs that had been cracked open by one of Savos Aren’s friends from ever so long ago…The urge to tear Savos’ face off screamed at him _ ,  _ but he remembered that he was only permitted to do that once Elyden had peacefully died of old age before killing his boss. One of the few promises he’d ever keep, against his own chagrin.

Savos Aren sighed as he plopped down on top of his nice wooden office chair, pinching between his brows before giving in: “How  _ long  _ were you up there, lich?” 

“Three hours, it’s been pretty entertaining.” Morokei hummed as he struggled to swing himself upright on the thick branch of juniper. It was a lot harder to do when most of your muscle has rotted off during your lichdom. But he was Morokei, so he managed even if he lost his left earring that pathetically plopped onto the moist dirt floor. “So how many died today, Arch Mage?” He cooed with actual curiosity.

Savos Aren rose an eyebrow before groaning in either genuine disgust or childish annoyance—it mattered not to Morokei of which one as long as the dunmer was feeling  _ some  _ negative emotion because of him—before replying: “Divines, can’t you at least  _ pretend _ to care?” 

“Why? They aren’t my students, though back then I also didn’t care much for casualties…” Now that he thought of it, Morokei was never allowed to have apprentices again after his seventh one turned into a pile of goo, pity that...Elyden was very lucky to still be breathing after his teachings, maybe the gods were watching over the young man. “If anything, you should be glad, less people to pay for—“

“Shut up, you boomer.” Before Morokei could ask what that meant, Savos Aren already stood up and locked himself in a small closet to change out of his official robes. Muttering some cruel words that would even make a child blush, he slipped out of his official Arch Mage robes and into something similar in style but much more comfier. Morokei should know, he tried them on once even if they were way too small, pity. 

The dunmer paused and poked his head out of the closet to stare at the lich still hanging around on his tree like a swing before asking: “Why are you still here? You usually visit only twice a week.” He held onto his hair tie with his mouth as he quickly brushed his slick black hair, looks like the old man was starting to bald. It honestly looked good on him, but Morokei would never let him know.

Morokei shrugged as he plopped back on the floor like a lazy cat, careful to not break any of the herbs as he put back on his earring that fell off. “Why not?” 

“You don’t like leaving Bromjunaar alone for long periods of time.” Savos continued, leaning against his closet’s door with crossed arms. “Is it because of the dragons?”

The lich visibly froze before forcing himself to shrug casually but it was too late, Savos caught the bluff. 

Savos snorted as he put on some indoor shoes, they looked old and handcrafted with decorations of giant mushrooms embroidered on. “Surprised you haven’t slaughtered Elyden yet for devouring your gods.” 

“Ah shut it, you geezer, before I destroy your tea set for such words!” Morokei snapped, making sure to swat some berry bushes as a small bit of revenge for the bastard’s words since he isn’t allowed to murder him. Yet.

The Arch Mage didn’t seem to be phased, what a bastard. “In all seriousness, why  _ haven’t _ you killed him yet? Usually you aren’t so compliant with those who oppose you.”

“You seem oddly disappointed.” Morokei teased through his teeth, crossing his arms and looked away to avoid the unwelcome tightness in his chest that threatened to burst open. “Has he annoyed you enough by allowing me to  _ save  _ your poor excuse for a college when you foolishly let the Eye of Magnus be moved from Saarthal?” Even though he had his mask on, he bore his teeth to give the closest thing to a shit-eating smirk he could do with most of his lips torn off. 

“Stop avoiding the question.” Savos didn’t fall for the bait, it looked like the rat was learning! He remained in eye contact, not daring to tear away from the empty stare of the mask until he got his answers. 

Morokei snorted and drummed his crooked fingers against the worn plates of armor that hung on his hips. He had to think about this, but not  _ too  _ long to not give Savos fuel from his silence. Why  _ doesn’t  _ he kill Elyden? It’s because the thought of hurting him still gave him pangs of...grief...pitiful and disgusting and useless grief. Because Elyden was his last apprentice; he... _ c a r e d _ about the elf. The foolish young man who still can barely do any frost spells  _ even  _ with his help, what a fool, he’d go to the ends of the world for him. Morokei could admit it to himself and to Elyden, begrudgingly, but to others? He’d rather kiss a troll—though that sounds kinda hot...too bad he was happily married in a monogamous relationship.

“It’s not like that it would do anything to help my situation.” He concluded with a slight ring to his tone to radiate confidence, cannot show weakness in front of the milk drinker like the proper atmoran he was. “I am a dead man either way so it doesn’t matter—” Oh shit.

Savos tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “A ‘dead man’?” The dunmer’s eatable face twisted to an odd mix of emotions: confusion, concern, smugness, and curiosity. Bastard.

Morokei stood there for a good bit, weighing the benefits of not letting Savos know or of just letting it out. In one hand, he adored annoying the fuck out of the elf. On the other hand, he  _ really  _ wanted to talk about this to  _ someone _ . But not because he needed to talk about his problems! That’s stupid and childish, he just needs an excuse to shock Savos even  _ more _ . And Elyden doesn’t need more things to pointlessly stress over and his usual draugr companions are no longer around.

“I have murdered one of my fellow priests and collapsed his temple to try to hide the evidence, but I am pretty sure his ghost is still around and he is going to snitch on me.” Divines, that felt good to get off his chest. He needs to do this more often, especially with Savos’ expression. “And most of my followers tried to kill me for my heresy so the palace is emptier than my bowels.”

“Oh Divines, is  _ this  _ why you’re hanging out here?” Savos pinched the middle of his brow with an exabbergated sigh. “You’re scared of the wrath from your gods?” He covered his mouth to hide his own snicker.

“Laugh, enjoy it while it lasts.” Morokei drew out his cold words as long as possible, but Savos has lost all fear—or enough care to worry about the concept of death—of the lich a while ago. “But yes, I am...scared...of  _ a  _ dragon’s wrath as most of them didn’t really care for Hevnoraak, though that may not matter as I have betrayed my people either way...” Oddly enough, the thought didn’t fill him with much dread as it should, he felt kind of...relieved in a way. He was slowly actually able to do whatever the fuck  _ he  _ wanted without the fear of being devoured or worse, having his loved ones devoured in front of him. As if that hadn’t happened before

Savos shrugged. “Good luck with that, just make sure that no one gets hurt in my college because of  _ your _ mistake—wait why did you murder one of your priests?” He looked up and down at the lich with pure shock and bewilderment, disbelieving that the monster could do  _ anything _ good. Oh you dumb little tiny man...don’t worry Morokei is still processing over his new ways to this day.

“Because he sucks.” Morokei said simply with a shrug, that wasn’t a lie. Hevnoraak was an insufferable person, even by  _ his  _ standards which is pretty hard to do. Normally Morokei would congratulate someone who managed to have such a lack of moral decency that it even disgusts him, before sacrificing them to his dragon lords for the shits and giggles. But  _ Hevnoraak _ , the twink  _ bastard _ , had tried to assassinate his way up to the top, bend the wills of priests to build his own little army, defiled many statues of the dragons to build his own on top, and declared himself a god. And even worse, he tried to poison Konahrik in a plot to take over their position after failing to bend their will. The only reason why Morokei wasn’t permitted to tear out Hevnoraak’s fucking throat was because his patron dragon adored him. He did not regret murdering the bastard in cold blood, but he dreads the consequences of his  _ betrayal _ . 

Morokei feared that the seeds that he planted had changed his fate forever, the thought scares him. But also he couldn’t really be sure if he could bring himself to care anymore; he was over a thousand years old, he had a bit to think about. Even if the sight of his former gods’ bones terrified him, he felt some kind of slick gratification. He quite liked seeing the bastards getting a taste of their own medicine, despite how hypocritical it was saying from an equally terrible monster that he was.

“I’m sure that’s a common feature among your cult.” Savos said as he rolled his eyes, already used to getting half assed answers such as that. He tugged down his dull blue tunic as he set up some tea to drink for the night and to mend his wounds that he is still recovering from the dragon attack days before. 

“Eh, I have met some who were very kind, some even tried to jumpstart a rebellion centuries before the nordic heros were even conceived.” Morokei decided to sit cross legged in the air, the alteration spell barely making a dent in his magicka pool and rested his elbows on his knees to lean on the palm of his hands more comfortably. “Some even happened before  _ I  _ gotten my first mask.”

Savos paused whatever the fuck he was doing, the dragon priest didn’t care enough to pay attention to  _ everything _ the elf did, and looked up at him. “Really?” He got a hum as his answer and a raised eyebrow in response. “How come this wasn’t in the history books? Or in any oral stories or engravings?”

Morokei rolled his eyes and took off his mask, adjusting his bundle of dreads that got stuck on his earrings with small curses under his breath. “That’s the  _ point _ , you—” He took in a breath to keep his frustration down to a low, he shouldn’t make his presence known when the whole of Winterhold was a few floors below. “Anytime heresy threatens the pillars of our organization, we have to erase any signs of it so that no one will get the wrong ideals.” This was rehearsed to him and by him many times that it was simply impossible to count. “Pity that we didn’t get everything erased last time, eh?” He gave a small chuckle, it sounded like he was choking with the lack of proper muscles in his loose throat. 

“Truly so.” Savos sarcastically replied as he waved away Morokei’s mangy blue cape out of his way as he sat down at his table to get some last minute work done before going back downstairs. He ignored the lich for a good minute, only the loud breathing of Morokei’s burst lungs and the ticking of the giant clock right above them. “Morokei, how busy are you?” 

“What do you desire of my time, mortal?” Morokei drawed out in his hushed voice, knowing how much it sounded like nails on chalk to the elf. He grinned at how Savos visibly cringed at the noise. 

“You know what happened with Elyden two days ago, yes?” Savos’ words pulled the smile from Morokei’s face, who forgot to put his mask back on.

“Yes, I am aware” Morokei was not there to witness it, but he had heard from the walls of how Elyden either got overwhelmed with sorrow and hid in his office or rudely got upset with everyone’s normal questions and chickened out. He could not tell which was true at this point.

“Well, as much as I understand of his predicament, can you tell him to at least leave his office? I am not even sure how he eats or bathes in there without stepping a foot outside.” Savos looked up at the floating lich, a clouded expression with curled lips. He was resting his hollow cheek against his fist, making a small hum of exhaustion. 

“Gods, he has?” Morokei sighed with a pinch to his brow, ignoring the twist of worry and concern that coiled in his empty stomach. “Foolish young man…” He muttered to no one in particular. “What  _ has  _ happened exactly? I get unclear answers from the ones who aren’t  _ too  _ scared of my presence.” He enjoys the quivering fear he gets from the students and professors, but now it was just inconvientant. In fact some accused him of bringing the dragon over, in which if it was true then he would’ve gladly fought alongside them...maybe...yes? Probably so...Gods he wasn’t sure anymore.

“He got scared and ran away.” Savos replied simply, going back to his papers and frowned as his ink was smudged due to being left handed. “It wasn’t as dramatic as others bring it out to be; people were still panicked and shaken from the fight beforehand so it’s no surprise that they reacted as such to his actions.” 

Morokei pursed his lips and nodded. “I see, than—” He choked on his next words but forced them out. “—k you...Savos Aren.” Forcing down his pride and aghast at the actions he just committed against his morals, he slightly bowed down to the Arch Mage in thanks. 

“You’re welcome?” Savos raised a brow in disbelief but ignored it for now, he clearly had more things to worry about rather than an ancient dragon priest who haunts his college. “Don’t reveal yourself to the public and keep your outbursts to a minimum, I am already getting enough angry letters from the Jarl about my ‘false dragonborn’.” He reminded the lich as if he was a stubborn child. Morokei let it pass for now, as he was too busy wondering if he could get away with hexing the Jarl again. 

“Don’t do anything stupid without me to make fun of you.” Morokei replied as if it was automatic before dropping through the small portal he spawned and dropped through the ceiling of Elyden’s office. 

He lept down as gently as he could, but the loud clank of metal boots echoed throughout the room. The lich flinched at the loud noise, but the slumped over figure that was too busy grading papers was silent in the ill-lit room. Morokei had always liked Elyden’s office, it was roomy enough for two people to comfortably lounge in which was great as this is one his favorite spots to hang out in. 

But most of all he loved the decor; there are so many old maps of different temples that he vaguely remembered as a young man hung over bookshelves with warm red ink of notes messily written in. Sketches of the once grand architecture of the temples and of old traditional robes of the people was pinned to the wall that stank of cheap charcoal. Along with that, drawings that his students gave to him of flowers and weird slang that he did not get—damn young people—hung up among the records of his own history. 

There also some of Elyden’s own personal items, at least the few that he could show any potential Thalmor without giving away his secrets. Such as altmer-esc rugs that were practical paintings of the islands stitched in that the elf was born and raised in. As well as the small bed that was barely big enough for two that was off to the corner had thick sheets that were also hand crafted by ancient altmer. And of course, there were plenty of pots of snowberries that were fully ripe and already plucked and stored in Elyden’s traveling jar. 

Elyden’s room was oddly comfy, dense with so many items are considered as artifacts, but when Morokei was his age they were all just common household objects. It was quite nice to be part of history, even if his name would be forever known as a cruel tyrant who ate people’s livers for a living. He was completely fine with that to be honest.

Morokei nudged his cape off from a spiked pot of snowberries, careful not to tip the entire thing off the night table and then slipped back on his blue mask . “I hope I didn’t disturb you too much, I heard you had quite the week.” Instead of getting the usual response of an awkward warm greeting, he got silence. Frowning, he turned to look at the hunched over figure, only lit by a dwindling candlelight spell that illuminated the estrayed papers and books that practically surrounded the elf. The only sound was simple scribbling with the pretty red feather and cheap black ink. 

“Elyden?” Morokei brushed down his dress and carefully approached him, careful to not startle him as he neared him. Only a few inches away, he slightly knelt down to look at his sides to get a better look. The coiling concern only tightened.

The elf’s bagged eyes were staring at the wall in absolute silence, his hands delicately gripped on a fancy letter. He looked tired and empty, but his hair and face was washed and he had the scent of a dash of lavender perfume so he wasn’t  _ too  _ far out. Morokei relaxed but his concern did not waver, his elf was still either ignoring him or spacing out.

Before the lich could try anything else, Elyden relaxed his hold on the letter and let it uncrumble itself on his crowded desk. “I got promoted to the Senior Enchanter.” His voice was hoarse and stuffy of fatigue. 

“That’s great news—”

“Because everyone else is dead.” 

“Oh.”

Elyden nodded with a shaky breath as he held up the nicely calligraphed letter to Morokei’s face. It read of Sergius’ demise and of the rest of the Instructors under enchanting, the only survivor being Elyden. And as such, since he is the only one with enough experience who is  _ also  _ alive, he has been promoted and is expected to give an answer in the following day. The letter was sent nearly half a week ago. 

“Well, isn’t this good?” Morokei struggled to find a bright side to this and  _ not  _ dig his wounds even deeper. “You always told me how you wanted to become an Instructor?”

The altmer held a fist to his mouth as quivering tears stained more of his red cheeks. “I never wanted for them to die, I wanted them to be around when I got my robes of a Master Mage.” His voice quickly began to break into painful whispers that hurt his throat. “And now I will never see them ever again...It’s all my fault…”

“Divines,” Elyden slid his face down against his hands as his elbows rested on his crowded table, wringing and pulling at his scalp as he gave a small hiccup. “there are so many dead that we can’t even make room in the graveyard to bury them! So we—they had to burn the bodies and cast the ashes to the ocean.” His ungloved hands were red and pale from being tugged and squeezed at, his nails cracked and uneven. “So many lives just  _ taken  _ in a matter of seconds.” 

Before Morokei could answer, the elf dropped his head onto his table like a dead man with a loud  _ thump _ . He made no noise of pain or discomforment, just a thick snort to be able to even  _ breathe _ . “Gods, how many are out there in the same exact situation?” He shielded his head and gripped onto his hair with some confused muffles. “How many are  _ dying _ —stuck in an endless battle against an immortal enemy that only when  _ I _ come  _ just  _ close enough, it will finally die?” 

Morokei frowned and gave a small nod as his apprentice broke into quiet sobs. He knew grief, he had pushed through it for thousands of years when he outlived his loved ones and it never gotten better, just became duller as the pain lingered in his heart. But helping others with it? That was a complete mystery to him, as only a handful of people ever helped him deal with his sorrows since it was not proper for a dragon’s servant to be a  _ weak _ ...  _ little _ ... _ sniffling _ ... _ nobody _ . However, those handful of his precious treasures were all priests as him, only given rare moments to mourn and cry and scream so very like him. His parents and spouse  _ never _ mocked him for his emotions, only joined him and did their best to help in their own ways. And looking at Elyden sniffle all alone in his office, having driven everyone out in filthy  _ shame _ , Morokei only saw himself.

“Probably a good bit are.” Morokei simply said, choosing his honest thoughts over forced words. “That is just part of life, you cannot save them all.” He tried to mimic his dear father as he put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle clutch to try to squeeze out the tension, Elyden visibly relaxed. “It doesn’t make you any less of a good person.” Those last words snapped something in the elf as he slumped down to a pile of pity.

“But that is my fucking  _ destiny _ .” Elyden shot up, his hands clutching into balls of fists as he  _ glared  _ up at Morokei. “That’s what everyone has been telling me! That I have to stop a literal  _ god  _ from destroying everything I love!” His yellow eyes narrowed in a  _ way too _ familiar way to a certain someone back in Morokei’s memories, a slight chill crawled up his spine. It was primal and full of anger and  _ rage _ just like his draconic lords and the First. The stir of emotions seemed too comfortable on Elyden, as if that was his absolute and pure state: a Dragon. Morokei’s heart skipped several beats at the thought of loosing someone again to the dragons, he was fucking tired of it. And absolutely terrified.

The elf seemed to have noticed this and unclenched his fingers, his shoulders slumping and eyes darting down with a frown in guilt. “Alduin’s not eating the world, is he?” 

“No, he is not.” Morokei knew that if Lord Alduin had planned to recycle the planet, he wouldn’t have bothered entombing his servants nor bringing back his kin to life. He wouldn’t have bothered as they were all to be devoured anyway. Though Morokei didn’t awaken anyone else after Hevnoraak and the mutiny back at home, he knew that the unmasked priests were already moving to Skulfdahn with their armies as he watched them march across the fields of Whiterun personally. All ignored the guards and mortals, as they did not matter while the dragons called for them to come to their masters. And soon he’d be summoned with his comrades to personally greet Alduin back to Sovngarde. 

Elyden made a thick swallow. “I thought as such…” He took out his skin of water and took long gulps from it then cleared his throat after a moment of silence. “So, that means I also have to stop the Dragon Priests then, yes?”

Morokei’s skin jumped as he fully  _ realized  _ what that meant but nodded with a hard grip to Elyden’s chair. Alduin was the key to his and the priests’ power, but before his blessings he and the rest were still very powerful men who will not go down without a fight. 

“Does that include...you—”

“Please.” Morokei put a hand on Elyden’s lips a bit  _ too  _ harshly as his hushed voice betrayed his quivering thoughts. “Don’t think that…” He relaxed his hold and instead slowly stroked Elyden’s thin hair. Clear memories of his precious mother braiding his hair with fresh oils for his dreads burst through him with the added melancholy. And so Morokei undid the plain ponytail and kneaded his fingers through Elyden’s scalp to ease up the roots, the elf leaned against the touch with a sigh and half-lidded eyes. 

“I am tired of losing people.” The Dragon Priest took off his mask and hooked it by his belt by it’s clasps before fondling the Dragonborn’s hair. Carefully and gently, Morokei loosely wrapped his arms around Elyden’s head and shoulders and rested him against his chest. Just like his bevolded Konahrik did, added with a soft squeeze and resting his chin on top of his head. He could feel Elyden’s warmth seep into his, steady and soft and alive. He also could imagine the stone cold corpse that he would gripped against his body. “You’re all I have left.”

Elyden held onto Morokei’s robes and heavy armor plates and dug his face into his mentor, muffling a string of heavy thank yous and useless apologies. Morokei gave him a hush then assured him that he didn’t care for that. The elf fell silent and just hugged him tighter, bringing a bit of relief to the lich as he was worried that this would seem ungenuine. But it was okay, all okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe and well, my lads <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been more than a few months but at the time of writing a whole lotta things are happening!
> 
> But hey! Tis is done, I am happy with it, it's my Thiccest chapter yet and the plot is kicking in!
> 
> Also! In the end I got a little announcement! :DD

Winterhold was known not only for it’s grand college that dominated the skies with it’s grandore, it was also known for the snowy landscape. For the tall mountains that kissed the clouds, for the harsh winds that chill him to the bone, and for the glistening ice that everyone loved to skate on once the sun was high enough. Elyden loved it all; he loved the snowflakes that made his cheeks rosy and the strong storms that spread across the jagged landscapes. And most of all, besides the abundance of snowberries to pick and eat, he treasured the open space. He feels so free and  _ alive  _ among the giant mountains and empty lands! 

Hugging himself to keep warm, he puffed out a swirly cloud of breath as he patiently waited for Enthir next to the gates of Winterhold. The guards were either too busy trying to stay warm with thick fur coats and steamy cups of ale, or trying to stay a bit far away from him. Elyden felt an odd mix of relief and slight disappointment, at least none of them are nagging—asking him any uncomfortable questions. Most people just avoided him when he left his office, from what he heard Mirabelle called for everyone to leave him to his “Dragonborn Business” in which he was forever grateful for; she said nothing of note for his thanks as she usually does. It was quite nice, oddly enough, it did relieve some stress from having to  _ talk  _ to people about his new change of fate—if it  _ did  _ change that is. He wondered if his fate and destiny always steered him towards having to stop a god? The underlying feeling of him never knowing weighed in his gut and his amulets of faith felt heavier around his neck. 

“Elyden, is it?” Malur Seloth’s oh so familiar voice turned Elyden around to see him near the gates, standing right next to him as if they were good friends. When Elyden first moved to Winterhold, he had gone to the Steward of Winterhold for bounties many times as he arrived with only sixty septims to his name. So they were...acquainted somewhat, just mutuals who sometimes shit talked their Jarl late at night inside the Frozen Hearth. 

“Yep.” Elyden lowered down his warm wool mask to not be rude as he looked down at the shorter dunmer. “Something wrong?”

Malur glanced up at him with a bit of a shudder as snow blew into his long red ears. “Our Jarl wanted to speak to you before you left to do your Dragonborn business.” He sounded bored and a bit displeased, the Steward had always vented of how he  _ despised  _ the snowy weather and longed for the warm ashes of his motherland. 

Elyden titled his head and struggled to not sigh too loudly, already steadying himself for any backlash for being an altmer mage within Jarl Korir’s court. “Of course, Enthir is taking a while anyway.”

The dunmer nodded and waved for him to follow after him, twisting around in the icy roads with a sudden curse as he struggled to keep upright with his shaky legs. Elyden offered a hand but got brushed away with insistence that he does  _ not  _ need help. Malur eventually steaded himself and stomped—as carefully as he could to not fall on his ass—through the cold winds and practically burst through the Jarl’s Longhouse. He melted in the sudden burst of warmth from the giant fireplace right smack middle of the building and quickly ushered in Elyden to close the giant doors. 

Elyden undid his hood and shook out the bits of snow that froze his clothes in place. The room was unusually dense with the new nobles of Winterhold, all giving him uncharacteristic smiles as they welcomed him into the Throne room where Jarl Korir sat waiting for the Dragonborn. Elyden gave his usual smiles back at them, feeling a bit claustrophobic in the crowded room full of fake smiles just like his and the breath-stilling tenseness that filled the air. 

“Give our little elven  _ hero  _ some breathing room, everyone.” Korir’s commanding voice echoed through the room and everyone immediately backed off for Jarl to get a clearer look at his guest. He was sitting nonchalant on his wooden throne, scruffy jaw resting on the palm of his hand as the other was busy waving away his son and wife who looked upset to be sent away so easily but went away without another word. 

The room distilled into a deafening silence, only the slight sniffles of others and the cracking of the giant bonfire. So Elyden awkwardly coughed and kneeled down and put a fist to his heart and muttered a respectful greeting to the Jarl. Odd how it was completely automatic for him despite him not being a spellsword for nearly two decades. He still remembered the look of shock the Jarl gave him when Elyden, a skinny nobody, brought the heads of some bandits who were causing trouble in the mines. The Jarl gave that same look after he absorbed that dragon’s soul oh so while ago, only it filled with a different type of uncomfortableness: a fear of him both a Dragonborn and an elven mage. 

“You may rise, Dragonborn.” The Jarl lazily motioned for Elyden to stand back up, before going back to his usual position of resting his face against his fist. “I assume you know why I summoned you here.”

Elyden shook his head, he had a bit of an idea but he didn’t want others to think he got an ego or something. If anything he  _ prayed  _ it wouldn’t be what he thought it was. “Not really, no, my Jarl.” He rested his hands against his hips on his recently cleaned leather coat that just was thick enough to stop any blades from gutting him and rubbed fingers against the really pretty blue embroideries that one of his exes stitched on as a birthday gift. A small pang of grief rang in his heart but he ignored it for now, no need to renew old memories.

The Jarl looked a bit  _ insulted  _ but did not dare comment on that. “There is room in my court for a Thane, and since you have been in Winterhold for…” He paused and looked at Elyden for help.

“Forty years.”

“Forty years,” The Jarl straightened up and continued: “And have served me as a spellsword and the...College as their professor. I wanted to give you the  _ personal  _ honor of becoming  _ my  _ Thane.” Korir smiled at him and put a hand on his sword, already standing up to induct the ceremony. 

Oh shit, oh fuck. “M-Me?” Elyden’s voice cracked before he had a chance to cough out his building stress. “With all due respect, my Jarl, I must decline your offer.”

The Jarl stopped moving, standing before him with crossed arms and a slight frown to his expression. “Is there a problem,  _ mage _ ?”

Elyden shook his head. “No, I am very flattered—” Wrong word. “ _ —honored _ that you considered me for the position! But I have zero experience with politics nor do I have any leadership skills!” There is a very good reason why he was not allowed to take any students on field trips due to his very much lack of skill in leading. Hell, even back in his Thalmor days he was immediately stripped of any responsibility! After he led a research group on ancient artifact hunting and instead was demoted to a second-in-command after an absolutely disastrous expedition that ended up everyone accidentally turning into ectoplasm. 

“Are you  _ denying _ me, Dragonborn?” The Jarl Koriri’s face melted back to his usual distaste for the elven mage, drumming his fingers against his leather gloves as he glared up and down at Elyden. “Is Winterhold too  _ small  _ for someone as large and  _ amazing _ as  _ your  _ kind?” He gestured to the thing that Elyden has been avoiding even  _ thinking  _ about, the decorated skull of the dragon he had absorbed. It was similar to the one that hung in Dragonsreach, only it was much smaller and had beautiful carvings of nordic runes as well as few practice arrows stuck into the cracked bone. His own draconic soul shivered in fear at the sight along with the others inside him.

“Of course not!” Elyden put up his hands in defense as he realized the implications, oh gods  _ did  _ the Jarl of Winterhold consider him an equal to the dragons? Did the royals plan to display his skull to the world if they didn’t get their way? The angry and terrified influx of souls twisted his emotions around as an anger boiled up his tongue that he struggled to bite down. It would only make it worse, he assured the souls that schemed to rile him up. 

“Then what is it, Ely-den?” The Jarl spat his name with such maliace and  _ disgust  _ that it only sparked the fire that was struggling to burn inside the Dragonborn’s chest. “What is it that is  _ so  _ important that you leave your home in our time of need?” 

Elyden frowned and tried to keep his cool as the shock began to wear off to make room for the  _ annoyance  _ he carried for the Jarl. “ _ Because _ , my dear and esteemed Jarl, I have to stop the Dragon Crisis that is eating people as we speak.” His frustration was heavy in his tone as some of the guards crept closer with recently sharpened spears. “I simply do  _ not  _ have the time nor the experience to be a Thane!”

The court was silent after those words, and the Jarl decided from his unimpressed expression that this whole ordeal was not worth his time. “Fine then.” The Jarl put away his sword with a loud clunk and turned his back to Elyden as if he was nothing to him. “Since the  _ Dragonborn  _ feels that way about our ruined home, take him out of my sight.” 

What the fuck.

Elyden tried to speak but some guards roughly grabbed onto his arms and tried to tug him away to the door. 

What the  _ fuck _ —that isn’t even what he  _ said!  _

The sudden touch sparked the flames in Elyden as he spun around to  _ snap  _ at the guard, his teeth baring and the tips of a Thu’um that  _ begged  _ to be let loose upon the mortals. He  _ knew  _ that he could just freeze them all into bits before Shouting them into  _ dust.  _

And by the Divines’ holy breath, it was  _ tempting.  _

The guard quickly backed off and clutched onto their spears that they used instead to try to prod Elyden out of the Longhouse. It did  _ nothing  _ to sate his rage at how he was treated by them just moments earlier. 

He can just rid of the vermen now. 

He had the power of four dragons pulsing through his veins, not including the unlocked  _ power  _ of his own pounding soul. And those blasted Words were  _ just  _ at the tip of this tongue! He could practically feel the smoke dripped from his jaw as he prepared to spit out a Shout.

Some more guards came by, nudging him roughly with their spears as the Jarl’s expression slowly morphed to the same— _ delicious _ —fear that he so craved to see below his feet.

“Fos los saraan fah, Dovahkiin?” Echoed the voices inside his head, silent but  _ there.  _ “Dreh nii.”

“Dreh nii.”

“_Dreh_ _nii_!” 

It would be  _ so  _ easy, he had done it before back in his golden and true days as a Thalmor—

Elyden virgously shook his head off the voices that swelled inside his head as he violently shrugged off the spears that  _ dared  _ to puncture through his coat. 

No _ ,  _ this was all  _ wrong _ ! He did not spend years crafting himself a new identity, to become a  _ good  _ person for once in his fucking life, only for it all to  _ crash  _ down just because he was frustrated with a stubborn Jarl! He felt a deep repulsion for himself and a heavy disappointment for his easy jump into his old self. He  _ was  _ better than this!

“Apologies if I offended you, my Jarl.” Swallowing down his  _ distaste  _ for the man, Elyden roughly nudged the blades out of his sides. “I will take my leave now, thank you for the suggestion and have a nice day.”

Giving one last glare to the guards until they fully backed off, Elyden strolled out of the quiet Longhouse, feeling every single eye trail after him until he left the humid building.

The cold and open air felt like heaven to his red cheeks and he could practically feel his draconic soul unfurling wings to take off to the grey skies. Elyden felt a sense of sickness to his chest once he realized that he could no longer fly in this wretched body, before remembering that he never  _ could _ . 

“Holy shit, what was  _ that. _ ” Elyden thought to himself as he clutched his chest to calm his beating heart that he did not realize was threatening to burst out of his ribs. He hadn’t felt that way in ages; such anger and  _ malice  _ and distaste for the ones so below him that they only deserve to  _ submit _ . But all he felt now was pure disappointment for himself. 

Breathing in and out in a steady pattern to calm his heart, Elyden willed himself to worry about that later as Enthir was approaching him after waving off a lazy thanks to a citizen. 

“Didn’t know you still were doing bounties, eh, Elyden?” Enthir adjusted his fluffy hood and brushed away bits of snow off his nose. Elyden gave a bit of a smile and shook his head in which he got a grin in return and a pat on the back. “Come on then, let’s discuss whatever sort of—” He noticed some of the guards taking a long look at them and decided to change his words. “—’items of interest’ you need from your dear vendor.” 

“Smooth.” Elyden said with a bit of a soft grin himself in which he got a lazy wave as his response. “Are you good with meeting at my place?” 

The bosmer cocked his head at him and raised a brow. “As long as you still got wine, I’m fine with visiting your tiny shack for a bit.”

“It’s not  _ that  _ small!” Elyden nudged him a bit in mock hurt, causing Enthir to smirk like a teenager. He was a bit confused until he realized  _ what  _ Enthir was snickering over. “You’re oddly immature for someone for  _ your  _ age, Enthir.”

Enthir shrugged. “Eh, age is just a concept...Minus pedophila and all of that sort, obviously.” He simply said as he patted the altmer’s back, too short of a wood elf to properly reach his shoulders without simply climbing on him like a tree. In which Enthir has done before many times out of pure boredom and spite from being so short. It can be quite terrifying to find someone climbing on your shoulders in order to reach a shelf, but Elyden was already used to it.

Giving a small nod, Elyden tried his best to not have his heart burst out of his chest from pure  _ nervousness.  _ After his...breakdown, he was expecting for Enthir to pry and prod but surprisingly enough he didn’t? Enthir acted like it was all normal and peachy, wanting to just get some chores done before meeting up at his place. Normally it would be suspicious, but Elyden trusted Enthir despite his best judgement. Even Enthir teased him for his easy-to-gain trust when they first met, but he really didn’t do much to abuse that trust besides to get him to deliver some questionable items. So really, from the forty years he knew the man, Enthir didn’t give him a reason to doubt him. 

Waving hello to some passing students, Elyden unlocked the door to his small home. It was a simple wooden house that had two rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom with the basement as the storage area and the bathroom. He liked to pride himself in keeping it  _ relatively  _ neat, but that has long been thrown out the window with the overabundance of notes about his expeditions and the pieces of altmer culture that he hoarded like a dragon. 

The kitchen had traditionally painted pieces of golden eagles and various other birds over the stone walls and the stove with dried herbs hanging from any high surface available. While right in the middle of the room was the small, round, dining table with wooden chairs stacked up for when Elyden was gone.

“Surprised it hasn’t fallen apart from the…” Enthir brushed some snow off his shoulders as he searched his memory. “...three months you were with Farengar.” 

Elyden shrugged. “I hired Faralda to look after the house while I was away.” He pulled down his hood, nudging some of his messy hair out of his face as he lit the wall’s candles with a few fire spells. Soon enough the home was bright as a morning day and Elyden felt confident enough to walk around without tripping over something stupid like himself.

“Pft, why haven’t you hired  _ me _ ?” Enthir scoffed with some amount of hurt in his voice as he leaned against a wall and haphazardly let a well-woven replica of the Dragon Cult’s banner  _ crinkle  _ behind his form.  _ Not  _ caring that it was an expensive replica and took a  _ long  _ time to iron out due to how long it was! Bastard.

“Because last time I let you house sit, you used my residence as a mini blackmarket.” Elyden sneered, he could  _ still  _ feel the stench of tobacco and of...bodily fluids… 

“It was only  _ one  _ time and in the spur of the moment! I practically had no choice!” Enthir rolled his eyes dramatically and instead decided to go through Elyden’s tiny cabinet of wine and glasses that were in the nice corner of the kitchen. He had to climb on top of the countertop to reach, it would’ve been adorable if Elyden wasn’t arguing with him.. “It’s not like you haven’t done  _ worse  _ things in your basement, my dear courier.”

“Oh hush, I only did those things because you pay me.” Elyden did not mention that he sorta did like the thrill of smuggling goods across borders or delivering elixirs of vigor to a lord. Nor did he mention the moral dilemma of doing something like this all for the sake of money; he assured himself it was just a grey area. “Speaking of such, I was wondering if you still had those disguise illusion spells? You know, the ones that can temporarily make you look like someone else?” He sat down on his dining table while Enthir got himself a small booster as he wasn’t a nearly seven foot tall altmer and wanted to be able to reach the table normally. It also would’ve been cute if it weren't for the fact that he was discussing buying illegal items from the man. 

“Couple dozen, why?” Enthir curled his hands together and rested his chin on top of them with his elbows on the wooden table. He titled his chin at him and blew some of his swept undercut out of the way

“Basically I am breaking into a Thalmor Embassy to get info on the rest of the Blades.” Elyden poured himself some jazzberry wine, it was cold and chilly just as he liked it. He thanked Enthir for being competent with frost spells unlike him who could barely cast an ice spike.

Enthir raised a brow. “So you want to disguise yourself as a Thalmor?” He got a nod. “Huh, so who are you working with?” 

“One of the few remaining Blades; she said she knew you.” 

Enthir pursed his lips in thought then shook his head. “Eh...I know too many people, you gotta be more specific than  _ that _ .” 

“Delphine, the co-innkeeper of Riverwood’s Sleeping Giant.” Probably wasn’t too smart to say that outloud, he was sure that it would be fine.

“Oh,  _ her! _ Enthir snorted, but smiled with  _ some  _ sort of nostalgia. “I shouldn’t be surprised that she is still kicking, that woman doesn’t know when to quit.” He smirked behind his glass of glowing purple wine. “Did you know she was part of the Thieves Guild? Now, I don’t know why she didn’t visit the face changer like you did, but she is a  _ master  _ at espionage! Pity she left, she would’ve made a great leader and easily could’ve kicked the Black Brairs’ asses.” He took another sip, before smacking his lips. 

“I’ll add that to the trivia.” Elyden replied as he dug through his bags to find his coins. “So how much per illusion scroll?” 

“Five-hundred each, I’ll add it to Delphine’s tab.” Enthir pulled out his seemingly small pouch of keys until he opened it and dug through his pocket oblivion, something purchased from a daedric prince apparently. Cursing about the horrible organization, he tossed aside a clump of red nirnroots, a replica of Almalexia’s crown, a rotting foot that is growing moldy, a pink version of an Elder Scroll, a jar of color-coded kidneys, a briar heart warrior’s headdress with fancy jewels, a fully beating human heart, all tossed on Elyden’s nice table. The foot was new…

“Found them!” Enthir pulled out a satchel of three ordinary scrolls that were small enough to easily slip in a small pocket. “Now, to activate them, you need a sample of your victim’s blood or skin.” He handed over the bag to Elyden with a small grin then began the tedious part of stuffing all of his highly questionable wares back into his little pocket universe. “Each scroll lasts an hour and a half so make them count!”

Elyden nodded as he carefully took the light bag, looking through the scrolls and wondered how angry Delphine will be from the price tag. “Thanks, but what do I do with the blood? Do I just...smear it into the pages, or?”

Enthir looked up from struggling to stuff down the pink Elder Scroll, which still hasn’t been confirmed to be real or not, and gave him a look of pure  _ disgust. _ “Unless you want to waste over a thousand septims worth of magic,  _ no! _ You use a very sophisticated, but not too complicated, alteration illusion spell! It takes forever to learn as this is technically illegal, as well as potentially dangerous as scrolls have the tendency to blow up!” 

Finishing his rant, he zipped up the bag and looked back to see Elyden’s concerned, but awkward, expression. Enthir’s face shifted from confusion to realization and to despair then acceptance all in a matter of a few seconds. “And I have to go with you as you have absolutely no idea how to use that spell, eh?”

“I’ll give you a fifty septim bonus.”

“Alright fine, where to?” Enthir watched as Elyden pulled out his cheap and yellow map of Skyrim who then pointed off to where Solitude was, somewhere near the swamps of Morthal. The bosmer sighed as he leaned against the palm of his hand and gazed up at the altmer between his fingers. “You know, days like these I am glad you’re friends with a sociopathic dragon priest whose ego glows brighter than my future.”

Elyden rolled his eyes. “I thought you liked Morokei.” He played with the wooden necklace that he still wore in fear of his mentor giving him a long lecture about accepting his gifts. 

“I do! He is hilarious to be around and likes to give me dangerous explosives just for shits and giggles!” Enthir defended as he turned his attention to Elyden’s silver ring, as if Morokei could just appear at any moment. Elyden tucked his ring hand into a pocket. “But he also tore Arcano into unrecognizable pieces and managed to avoid the Psijic Order  _ every  _ single time they came over demanding the Staff!” 

The altmer shrugged. “Okay, and? You have done worse.” 

“Morokei is a dragon priest, remember?” Enthir crossed his arms. “The fact that he hasn’t killed you yet is—”

“Alrighty! So we got a deal, yes?” Elyden shot up from his dining table, swiping up his map as he began packing up for the travels. 

“Now let me finish—”

“It’s a simple question, Enthir!” Elyden turned to look at him with a wry smile, his hands were shaking too much to be normal.

Enthir looked at him for a good bit before shrugging. “Eh, why not? The school’s closed for the pandemic, might as well give Delphine a  _ hug  _ or something…” 

“Wonderful!” Elyden slammed down his wine glasses a  _ bit  _ too hard, each shard scattering across the sinks. He stood there a bit, silent as he willed himself to not dwell on the  _ thoughts _ . The thoughts of Morokei slitting his throat open to have him die slowly and painfully for his gods. The thoughts of Elyden watching his mentor’s eyes dim of all life for the greater good of the world. 

“Uh...Seems like I hit a nerve there—”

Elyden didn’t realize Enthir was right next to him until the bosmer tried to awkwardly pat him on the back. He quickly nudged the hand away and spun around to face his friend with a fake smile. “No, it’s fine! Just difficult to control my emotions with four dragons in my head, ya know?” He gave an equally fake laugh, he didn’t really care that it was obvious that Enthir wasn’t buying it.

But then Enthir expression flashed both concern and amazement. “You have dragons...in your head?”   


“Nevermind that—”   
  
“What do ya mean ‘Nevermind that’—”

“Oh hush, it’s not like it’s the strangest thing you know about me, hon.” Elyden tutted as he spun on his heel to turn around and acted like nothing was wrong. 

“I can  _ assure  _ you, having dragons in your head is stranger than you once dating a draugr Deathlord!” Once it was evident that Elyden didn’t want to discuss this, Enthir gave up and sighed. “Whatever, I’ll argue with you about it when we get out of the city, will Morokei teleport us out or…?”

“He  _ should  _ be able to. But, I’m not too sure of how close, as I assume Solitude looked a lot different back in his day.” Elyden splashed his face with cold water to shake out of hibby jibbies and shuttered from the icy douse, but hey! It woke him up! 

“Eh, as long as it doesn’t take us months to get there, I’m fine with it.” Enthir patted him on the back before lazily waving goodbye. “I’ll see you by the gates outside, I’ll just go to formally inform Savos that I am off to help you save the world from getting eaten by dragons, yea?” 

“Yeah...See you soon, Enthir.”

“You too, you lanky twink tree.” Enthir’s teasing, but fond, words were the last Elyden heard before the bosmer left his home. Now all was heard was the silent splashing of water as Elyden was cleaning his glassware and his table of any mold. It was kinda nice to be back home again, he wished he could just sit down and settle out his notes he and Farengar gathered together on the Dragon Cult. But he had no time, he had to go out and basically do spywork since he was a generic looking altmer. Divines above, why did he have to pay the face changer to make him  _ look  _ generic as ever? 

Elyden nearly tossed his towel into the sink before realizing that he didn’t want to distress Faralda with his uncleanness. Taking one last look at his small cozy home, wondering how amazingly lucky he was to not have it destroyed when that dragon attacked Winterhold. He heard small mumbles of apologies from said dragon that sat gloomingly inside him, they said that they just woke up in the mines and got scared from the abundance of violent humans. Small sobs echoed inside him and Elyden silently accepted their apology as a different kind of guilt swelled in his heart. It all stilled into silence soon enough and Elyden took it as the que to begin packing. 

Adjusting his usual leather coat to fit with the extra padding underneath, he picked up his repaired weapons from the smithy nearby and gave a quick smile to the smith who wished him luck on his quest. Elyden felt...mixed feelings about this but suppose that he had enough time to dwell on it, they were all just dull now. 

Enthir waved to him near the gates, he was all decked out in fluffy clothing and leaned against a staff of fury that Elyden had to crawl in a spider den to get. “Took you long enough!” 

“Had to make sure I didn’t forget anything!” Elyden replied before he paused. “Shit! I forgot to tell Faralda to house sit again!” 

“Don’t bother! I already told her!” Enthir grabbed Elyden’s arms before the altmer could beeline to Faralda’s place. “Let’s just get going before Alduin vores us all or something.” Elyden physically cringed and Enthir gave a shit-eating grin, the bosmer must’ve been terrorizing everyone with that slang. Bastard. 

The snow was fresh so their boots weren’t wet or slippery and the air was crisp and dry as the sun was hidden by the clouds. Enthir hated this weather, he said he preferred the sun to be shining on his face. Elydens said he prefered to not slip on cold mud even if the weather was a bit miserable. 

Soon enough Winterhold slowly disappeared into the misty fog of the mountains as the two hiked up the trail to the abandoned mines. Enthir cursed as he shook some snow out of his boots, calling for a time out as he leaned against a destroyed sign post for leverage. Elyden shrugged and decided to glance around the abandoned mines. It smelled of ash and copper as the gapping cave was surrounded by empty bloody spots on the gravel. A small sense of familiarity sparked in Elyden’s—a dragon’s soul as he took in the scene. Small glimpses of someone’s memory saw him batting away a guard with his spiked tail and screaming out a stream of frost to the miners who dared to fight back. He felt thumpets of fear in him. 

“Enthir?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this the mines that the dragon came out of?” Elyden looked warringly at the spots of gore where some snow foxes were desperately looking for any scrap of meat. 

“Uh...I think so?” Enthir looked around, his skin paling at the sight as if he  _ just  _ realized where he was. “Yeah, probably was, at least we got the bodies out.” He looked a bit sick to his stomach as he rubbed his once broken arm.

“Yeah…” Elyden heard more pleas of sorrow inside him from the culprit but he slowly tuned them out, he couldn’t deal with this now. “You ready to move on?”

“Yes, please, let’s at least teleport from a pretty meadow of snowberries or something.” Enthir used his staff to get himself back up, testing his boots to make sure they were properly tucked in, and gestured for Elyden to follow. 

The walk was once again a bit silent, now more awkward than mutual. Enthir coughed and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked up at the altmer. “So...just to be clear, no talks of Dragonborn stuffs?”

Elyden sighed. “Just don’t go crazy with the questions, I’m not in the best headspace now.”

“Cool, cool, cool…” Enthir said with excitement ringing in his voice. “Can you Shout? Specifically fire? I want to see if I can sell dragonfire, I bet it will catch a pretty penny.”

Elyden gave a small laugh. “I can’t do fire yet, I haven’t learnt it yet." He got a confused look from that. “Well, you see, each dragon usually has a handful of Shouts they know, like frost dragons now Ice Breath and Ice Form, yeah?” A nodd. “Well, as a dragonborn, I theorize that I can learn all of the Shouts if I just absorb the knowledge from their souls? Because it’s not just speaking the word, as I know the word for Fire, I just need the blueprint for it.”

“That’s fascinating.” Enthir giggled in excitement as he clasped his hands together. “So what Shouts  _ do  _ you know?”

Elyden rubbed his recently trimmed beard in thought. “I know Whirlwind Sprint, which just hurls me across the land. And Slow Time which...slows time. And I know Unrelenting Shout, which Ulfric also has, mine is just more complete and powerful. As well as Ethereal which makes me a ghost for a minute or two. And lastly I know Frost Breath.”

Enthir gasped. “You can slow down time?!”

“For a bit yes.”

“You’re basically just a miniature god!”

“I’d prefer not to be called that, but historically you’re not wrong since the dragons back then were considered—”

“Can you demonstrate one of the Shouts?” Enthir ran up in front of him and slammed down his staff into the snow as he put his hands on his hips. “We’re in the middle of fuck-knows-where, so there are no witnesses besides I!” 

Elyden looked around carefully, no one around for miles except some rabbits and endless planes of snow. “I suppose…” He coughed a little bit as he gestured for Enthir to step aside who did it without question. Massaging his throat in weariness, he flexed his shoulders and Shouted: “Fus… Ro  _ DA!”  _ A heavy spray of pure  _ Thu’um  _ hurled bushes out of their roots a good five meters from him along with thick blocks of dirt and gravel. 

Enthir awed at the sight and pounced in the air. “That was  _ fantastic!  _ I can see how Ulfric murdered the High King with that!” He beamed at Elyden before asking. “Does this mean Ulfric is also a Dragonborn?” A reasonable flash of worry went across his face.    
“Not from what I know of, he just learnt the hard way. He must be really skilled to have not torn out his throat from that like I did.” Elyden rubbed his throat in remmeberance, a bit surprised that this Shout did not make him sore. He was getting better, a clutter of voices encouraged him, he gave them a sheepish thank you. 

“Fascinating...” Enthir repeated as he went back to his staff and leaned against it. “It must feel so nice to be that powerful, eh?”

Elyden shrugged. “Along with all of the stress of having to save the world from a Tyrannical God, sure, I suppose.” 

“Right, I forgot about that part…” Enthir rubbed the back of his neck again awkwardly. “Anyways! Think this is a good spot to summon a lich?” 

“Ignoring the loud Shout I did, yeah I don’t think anyone’s going to come by here anytime soon.” Elyden rubbed at the silver ring and waited patiently for Morokei to answer. Soon enough, a blue portal spawned in as the Dragon Priest peaked out to glance at the two. 

“Hey, Morokei.” Enthir waved to him casually, still leaning on his pretty staff with a lazy look on his face. “How’s Savos doing?”

“He’s currently having lunch, so I am legally not allowed to bother him.” Morokei rolled his glowing eye behind his mask dramatically. “So probably bored without me around.”   
Elyden smiled a bit at that, Morokei was becoming less...mean with Savos which is a  _ blessing _ . “Wonderful, but I was wondering if you could teleport us near Solitude?”

Morokei put up a hand to respond before hesitating in thought. “Which town is Solitude again?” He asked in genuine confusion.

“It’s one of the Holds, Gevild avok faal Okaaz if I remember correctly.” Elyden got a look of confusion, even if Morokei was still wearing his expressionless mask. It was easier to read with the twitching of his hands and the tilt of his head. “It’s the giant blue palace that is built above an ocean, where Ulfric murdered the High King.”

“ _ Oh! _ That one!” Morokei fully stepped out of his portal and brushed some snowflakes off his long blue gown. “Why did you young people have to change  _ nearly  _ all of the names? Makes things needlessly complicated.” 

Elyden knew it was because people historically wanted to disassociate their homes with a cult that held the populus under an iron fist but said nothing of the sort. 

“It’s to  _ specifically  _ annoy you, Morokei.” Enthir teased. 

“Must be...” Morokei rubbed where his braided beard slightly poked from under his mask, the elves could not tell if he was jesting or not. “Anyways,” His right hand glowed with a purple mist as he spawned in a portal. “This is as close as I can get without accidentally teleporting inside a building.” Morokei paused for a second then ramaged his hand carelessly inside the portal then it pulled back with some thorns sticking to his undead arm. “Yeah, it should be fine, enjoy yourselves.”

“Thanks, Morokei.” Elyden nodded to the dragon priest who dramatically bowed and casually tripped himself back into his original portal with the grace of a butterfly. 

Before Enthir could say anything, Morokei quickly popped his head back out and waved his finger at the two. “Now, I don’t know what you two  _ dumb  _ young people are going to do doing in there, but  _ don’t _ get hurt! If you dare even get a scratch, I  _ will  _ decorate your offices with pollen infested plants!”

“Morokei, that will literally kill me.” Enthir said with actual genuine fear. 

The lich thought for a good second then declared: “With greasy cheese rolls then!” Without another second to waste, he disappeared back into his portal which sucked back into nothing.    
Elyden drummed his fingers against his sword, quite used to his mentor’s ‘antics’. “Welp! No time to waste, you ready to go?” 

“As ready as ever.” Enthir cringed at the thought of thorns sticking to his side. “I cannot wait to change out of my warm fur coat in a manner of seconds before I sweat myself to death.”

“You’ll be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine, hon.” Elyden was already halfway in and didn’t get to hear Enthir’s response. The blast of warm air slightly staggered Elyden as he tried to block out the suddenly bright sun from his eyes with his forearm. Looks like Morokei teleported them right at the border of Morthal and Solitude with the huge amount of muddy spamps around and the mixture of the mountain’s snow. Not too far off then, though he did note that Morokei had teleported them at an old temple considering the ruined totems that were neck deep into the dirt. He wondered if this was once a small village governed by an unmasked priest and their dragon patron? Or just a small farming town?

Stepping fully outside, he took off his fur coat and tucked it inside his traveling pack, he was still a bit hot with his tan leather coat but he’d rather be a bit hot than to have a lack of  _ any  _ kind of armor. 

“Divines, I  _ despise  _ humid weather.” Enthir complained as he desperately shed himself of his warmer clothing, only his usual pale green traveling tunic was on now along with an elven dagger tucked under a belt. “Skyrim may be pretty but it’s full of racists and shitty weather.”

Elyden shrugged and pulled out his map and rolled it out on a tree nearby so that both he and Enthir can see. “Delphine marked a spot where we are to meet up, apparently some old abandoned hunter’s shack that no one has lived in for decades.”

Enthir hummed as he stood on his tippitoes to view. “Well if we’re right by the shores, we should be—” He huffed and pulled Elyden’s arms down so that the map can be lowered, finally able to see, but now Elyden had to be hunched over; he ignored the nearly seven foot tall altmer’s sheepish apologies. “Right by the borders of Morthal, and if I am guessing correctly, we should be only a mile or two from the shack that should be in the nick of the swamp right over…” The bosmer trailed off as he looked to his right, then pointed at a mass of dense woods that was right below Solitude’s stables. “There!”

The altmer nodded in agreement, deciding to not ruin his friend’s moment by telling him that Delphine already gave him direct instructions on how to find the hut. “Well, let’s get going, we aren’t getting any younger here.” 

“We’re both elves, but eh..”

Elyden sighed and patted on Enthir’s head like the tiny man he was and tucked away his map as the fellow professor took lead. The altmer was a scout courier for the majority of his life, whether it be for a facist faction, or a black market dealer, or the sole magical college in Skyrim, so he was used to rough terrain. He didn’t mind the harsh transition from a muddy floor that threatened to devour anyone who stepped on it to an unsteady rocky hill that can sprain one’s ankle without a second thought. Though Enthir cursed and complained about how much better it is to be in a climate that is pure snow because at least it’s consistent, Elyden stated of his indifference to the climates as he sees no real point in complaining about it. But, he did adore the soft snows of Winterhold, despite being born and raised on a beach. He loved the cold and the silence of it all; he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. 

Soon the rocky area turned into dense woods that any hunter would’ve loved to prowl in as there was plenty of game roaming about. Elyden felt a  _ bit  _ tense here; it was perfect to hide in, but it was also perfect for an ambush. Enthir seemed to have the same thought as he casted ebonyflesh on himself in which Elyden copied. Can’t be too safe, you know. 

After what felt like ages, a small hut was slowly revealing itself right at the spot that Delphine marked on Elyden’s map. It was a small thing, only real room for a duo of hunters who needed a place to sleep in. Made out of entirely of wood, it was covered in moss and vines and had cloudy windows that needed replacing, though it seemed to have been slightly reinforced with sharp spikes all over the floor and walls. 

Before Elyden could speak, a steel arrow embedded itself to the tree  _ right  _ next to his ear which nearly gave him another nick in his pointy ears. He felt an instinctual shiver crawl up his spine as he remembered Ancano tearing off an earring during a fight  _ way  _ before the whole Eye of Magnus incident. After that day he ceased to wear any piercings in fear of getting a whole ear ripped off.

“Delphine, for fuck’s sake, that was an horriendous shot!” Enthir shouted back at the shack as he pulled the steel arrow out of the tree with _some_ effort as he had to stand on his tippy toes to retrieve it. “If you were attempting to kill him, you failed with flying stars!” He twirled the arrow around, ignoring his friend’s Look. 

A figure peered out from the doors, huffing with pride as she put away her imperial bow and pulled off her hood. “It was supposed to be a warning shot, I wasn’t sure if it was you two.” Delphine cursed at her loose hairs and redid her ponytail, opting for a bun instead. “Oh, and uh, sorry Elyden.”

“Nice to see you too, Delphine…” Elyden pinched his neck as he flicked Enthir on the back of the head for his words, he got a dramatically fake look of hurt. “At least you’re being safe?” He got an awkward nodd in return from her.

Enthir grinned as he stepped closer and handed over the arrow. “I would hug you but I am not sure of our boundaries after...how long has it been again, eh?” He instead prompted for a firm pat on the Blade’s shoulder who gave a bit of a nostalgic smile. It looked a bit forgien on her, even though Elyden barely knew anything about her.

“Five years I believe, surprised you haven’t been gutted and thrown in a ditch yet.” Delphine smirked as she crossed her arms and slightly nudged Enthir’s hand off her which he complied with quickly.

“Ha! Nearly did a few times, luckily the Divines are too scared to face my wrath.” Enthir assured as if that was a normal thing to say. Delphine looked a bit bewildered at the declaration then simply nodded again. 

“I see...well, the coast is clear, so let’s head inside and get this over with.” Delphine commanded over the group as she gestured for them to follow her inside the small shack. “Oh, and watch the door, Elyden.”

“What—” The altmer bumped his forehead against the top door frame, cursing as a quick shot of pain ran through his face and rubbed numbly against his nose. He did not need to break it  _ again,  _ in the same way also! 

“Dragonborn, are you okay?”

“I thought you’d be more aware of short door frames in your age.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Elyden ducked quite a bit as he went inside, feeling truly blessed that the roof gave him plenty of room to not slowly break his neck. “So how are you going to—” He stopped his trail of thoughts as an underclothed high elf sat on the floor, all bruised and gagged and glaring daggers at them all. “Ah...so this is the Thalmor I am going to pretend to be, yes?”   
“Specifically Elsinore Rulindil, a well known interrogator for the Thalmor in Skyrim.” Delphine glared at the altmer with pure disgust who had nothing to give her but an angry glare. “He is married and already a grandfather of two, he is allergic to shrimp and he  _ despises  _ non-elves.” Delphine gestured to the recently dried pile of Rulindil’s official robes and weapons that was lying on a wooden table. “And he is conveniently just as tall as you and only a bit heavier than you.”

Rulindil’s eyebrows rose as he realized what was going on and made some  _ furious  _ muffled declarations at Elyden, struggling even harder against his bonds as if he were trying to  _ strangle  _ the man. Delphine rolled her eyes and just slightly pulled on the chains around the Thalmor’s neck, making him gag and choke until he sat still like a good prisoner.

Elyden frowned at the sight and nodded, feeling some guilt for framing someone for his crimes. A cluster of voices asked him why it mattered, if this man was a horrible monster who probably had his hands soiled with the blood of innocents? Elyden replied that it was because he was the same, and that he changed—someone laughed at the notion. Him? Good? He was just tamed. He still killed and maimed people, but only with some boundaries this time and a silver tongue to convince others of his morals. The voice crept close to his ears and whispered that he will never change, that he is meant to be a dominating dragon who ruled over all. That he should stop lying to himself and accept it. 

The altmer shuddered and physically waved off the voices, excusing it for some flies once Enthir gave him a weird look. He got a huff from another voice in him, telling him that this was a waste of time and that he was able enough to storm the base before all fell silent. 

“S-So, I am to impersonate him and use his status to get the information about the Blades?”

“If all goes well and you aren’t terrible at acting, yes.” 

Delphine got a small snort from Enthir who patted her on the shoulder with his Salesperson Smile etched across his face and said: “Delphine, don’t you worry, Elyden used to work with me since you were ten. If he was a shit liar, he wouldn’t be here.” He said as if that wasn’t damning information to tell someone who  _ very  _ much hated Thalmor.

The Blade raised a brow and looked up to Elyden. “Good to know.” She got an awkward shrug in return.

“So, off to business, yes?” Enthir clasped his hands together as he slipped the scrolls out of Elyden’s pockets and knelt next to Rulindil. “Now this may hurt a bit, but it shouldn’t be too bad for someone like you, eh?” He laughed to himself as he pulled out the scrolls and his hands began to glow a nice soft red. His fingers twitched as strings of magic gently pulled some pieces of skin, hair, blood, and saliva out of the violently twitching Thalmor who shouted some obscenities at the bosmer.

Elyden felt a bit sick, not from the action itself, but the fact that it rang a hint of pleasure in his core from seeing the altmer  _ squirm.  _ He cringed and looked away, ignoring the cluster of voices calling him yellow-bellied and the others who commend him for keeping up the act of a coward so well. The Dragonborn wasn’t sure which was worse, even if one lone soul silently tried to console him to ignore the rest. It didn’t help but the thought counted, he told them who gave a relieved sigh.

“Annnnd Done!” Enthir shot up as he held up the completely normal looking scrolls to the skies with pride, he looked a bit tired and exhausted from the whole deal but did not dare admit it. “Three illegal items coming up!” He tossed them at Elyden who barely caught them from the sudden ferocity. “Well, four, I added one extra without charge to test it out, you know?”

Elyden looked at him with concern. “Enthir, I know you, is this another trick just to rob me of over a thousand septims?” Delphine cursed silently to herself as she realized the price tag, walking around the room as she quietly shouted. 

Enthir suddenly turned serious and crossed his arms. “First of all, I’m  _ hurt  _ that you still think I am that cruel after that One Time!” He snapped his fingers to interrupt Elyden’s words. “ _ Secondly _ , I am fully aware of the fact that you’re the  _ Dragonborn _ ! Someone who may be our only hope against the dragons devouring us all!” The wood elf frowned as he rubbed his once broken arm. “I know that Delphine cannot help you alone, as capable as she may be, you both need the rest of the Blades to save us all. If they still exist that is.” 

Elyden frowned and nodded. “I see...well, thank you, hon.”

“Anytime.” Enthir gave a potentially genuine smile at Elyden. “Now, test out the scrolls! I need to see if my sudden loss of any sort of stamina was worth it!” 

“Right…” Elyden took out one of them and put away the rest, clenching it as it burst into a swirl of warm red that curled around his arm and spread out across his body. Slowly, but steadily, bits of his olive skin flaked off to reveal a much more warmer tone of pale gold. His eyes formed into a more traditional slant of altmer kind and pooled into a dark green that was an oddity in the great world of eugenics for the royal high elven blood that Rulindil clearly carried. And his hair turned into a desaturated blonde and his beard grew more bushier than usual. 

Delphine looked very uncomfortable, Enthir crossed his arms in pride, and the real Rulindil growled some obscenities. Elyden shifted in his spot, feeling a bit alien in this body, even if it was just an illusion. It felt like he was in a human sack that he was crudely wearing. 

“So...how long does it last?” Elyden touched his throat in amazement, even his  _ voice  _ was different! It sounded lighter and...snobby, like he  _ was  _ a nearly perfected breed of altmer who crawled his way up to the ranks of Thalmor. 

“Glad to see my work paid off!” Enthir playfully punched him on the shoulder with a grin. “You even  _ sound  _ like a privileged one percenter!” 

‘Thanks?” Elyden adjusted in his spot, feeling a bit light headed as this was  _ not  _ his body that his head insisted. Even if it was fully aware that this was just a very well crafted illusion spell. “I feel like I am in a skin bag but it’s manageable.”

“Great! Now put on the robes, I want to see my handiwork completed.” Enthir smirked as he firmly placed his hands on his hips, completely used to seeing Elyden naked even if this wasn’t Elyden’s body. Soon enough he got a bit embarrassed and decided to turn around to stare at a cobweb in the corner with Delphine. 

Elyden rolled his eyes and slipped on the Thalmor robes as perfectly as he could, looks like old habits never die as he precisely adjusted the buckles of his gauntlets to fit the dress code. It fit in with his new body, almost fitting like a glove if it weren’t for the fact that Elyden was a bit skinnier than Rulindil. Hopefully no one will notice.

Getting the underclothes tucked in properly, he held out the long black and gold coat of Rulindil. It certainly was high ranking, considering how long the tail was—nearly touching the trim of his boots in fact—and how it was basically spotless of stray threads and completely parallel. It felt odd for Elyden to slip it on, going automatically to adjust the belt that had a dull gold emblem of the Aldmeri Dominion proudly in the middle. 

After he tied Rulindil's beautiful elven dagger to his belt and hid his wooden bead necklace around his neck guard, he turned around to the crew and gestured to himself. “What do you think? I am completely ignorant when it comes to uniforms so I apologize in advance.” He sorta lied, it wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be to remember how to wear such an item. But Delphine did not need to know that.

Rulindil raised an eyebrow, looking a bit impressed before his expression twisted to a look of suspicion, good thing he was gagged. Enthir ooed and clasped his hands together like a fly while Delphine nodded in acceptance.

“Well, you certainly look like a piece of shit.” Delphine frowned as Elyden sighed and hid his face with the hood provided. “Not in a bad way! I meant that...Nevermind.” She handed him a small journal. “Here’s all of the information you need to know: Rulindil’s full name and rank, his small bits of trivia, the layout of the base, and your instructions, and a possible getaway in case things go sour.” 

Elyden nodded as he scanned through the journal for small bits. “Thank you, I think I’m ready to go.” He put on his Auri-El amulet and tucked away his Akatosh one. “Where did you say the meetup was?”

Delphine tucked on his sleeve before Elyden could turn around and go. “I first  _ got  _ Rulindil by kidnapping him from a ruined carriage that happened to explode from a mine I planted.” Elyden thought that was a bit extreme for her but Enthir acted like that was a normal everyday thing for her. “So as far as they know, Rulindil got lost chasing a bandit who dared to try to rob him.” 

“Divines, Delphine, is this an excuse for you to punch a Rulindil again?” Enthir rolled his eyes as Delphine shot him a Look that he once again ignored. “Just have him run through the woods like a madman, he should get dirted enough from that alone.”

“Actually, it would probably be best for Delphine to beat me up so I’d  _ look  _ like I was in an encounter.” Elyden said regrettably. “Got to be as authentic as possible, even if this means you get to give me a black eye.” 

“No, but then it would be out of character for Rulindil as he is most likely a master of the magical arts.” Delphine replied as the real Rulindil nodded in confirmation and puffed out his chest in pride. “Though it could be more believable as you could be too busy to heal yourself as you  _ had  _ to get to your post soon…”

“ _ And _ , we get to see if my illusion spell is smart enough to add bruises over your new body!” Enthir piped in before giving a sorry look to the altmer. “I normally don't condemn someone beating up a friend of mine, but this  _ may  _ be necessary...”

Elyden sighed as he stepped back a bit. “Just get it over with.” Divines, he had odd friends...even if this will help him in the long run...He had a fucking weird  _ life _ .

Delphine got into a proper stance and rose up a fist. “Sorry in advance.” And she  _ socked  _ him right in the face! Elyden yelped and backed up, cursing loudly as his right eye was now swelling shut. Rings of pain swirled around his head as he staggered to stay up right. 

“Fuck!” Elyden angrily cried out as he brushed some tears off before getting hit  _ again  _ in the ribs this time. And then the Blade sliced up an arrow across his lips that dug deep into his veins. With a final kick to his stomach, Elyden collapsed to the floor, wincing as  _ everything  _ hurt and his adrenaline screamed for him to fight back! The voices in his head were either cheering Delphine on, too busy cackling, or urging for him to rip her shoulders off. Elyden was straight up not having a good time.

“Delphine,  _ stop! _ ” Enthir ran to Elyden’s aid, looking genuinely concerned as his eyes twinkled with worry. But it all quickly melted away once he looked over the many new bruises that appeared on Elyden’s new body. “Amazing! The illusion scrolls are so powerful that it accounts for physical injuries!”

“Yeah, I can tell…” Elyden grumbled as his temper slowly boiled as he wiped some blood off his face, soiling his new nice uniform...All for the act…

Delphine knelt towards him and offered a clean towel to scoop some blood off his lips. “Sorry, I may have gotten...carried away.” 

“No shit!” Elyden snapped with a bit of Thu’um in his voice. He bore his bloodied teeth in which the Blade instantly backed off with a weary hand on her sword. The altmer instantly felt bad and lowered his head. “N-No, you’re good...I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with you...you pack a good punch.” He nervously laughed as he managed to get up, limping over his bruised ribs and aching stomach. 

“Thanks...I suppose…” Delphine crossed her arms as she handed him the clean towel. “Head west of here and you should find yourself in a secret base of Thalmor that is stationed near the Imperial camps.”

Elyden nodded and waved off to the crew. “I will see you in a few hours.” He carefully limped out of the hut, waving more goodbyes as Enthir told him to go and break a leg. The Dragonborn wasn’t sure if those choice of words were intentional or not. 

Not caring for the twigs that stuck to his robes or the mudd that smeared across his face, Elyden trudged through the woods as he read through the journal. Apparently Rulindil is a widow, loves the sound of his own voice, a bit sadistic, egotistical, racist, color blind, and hates the smell of wet grass. Interesting details.

He paused as he saw the words: “self proclaimed expert on all magical arts” and cursed silently. Now he really has no excuse to not heal himself! He will get caught and this will all be for naught! Unless he conveniently ran out of magicka…

Turning to some insignificant patch of moss, he just barely managed to summon a stream of thin frost to try his damn hardest to cover the floor. In just two seconds, his heavy pool of magicka was so drained that it actually made him a bit light headed. Wobbling in his spot, he leaned against a tree for support as his stress lowered a notch. 

Continuing on his way, he found himself stumbling into an Imperial Camp. It was a small thing, a tiny smithy was in the corner next to the main fire pit. There were miniature tents sprawled everywhere, each either sporting an emblem of the Empire or of the Aldmeri Dominion. It looked to probably support maybe three dozen men, including the staff, so not too big. But big enough to help against a staff.

“Halt! State your name and rank!” A human soldier pointed her bow right up Elyden’s neck, calling to the attention of others to the intruder. “Or we  _ will  _ use lethal force!”

Elyden growled and pulled back his hood. “Don’t they teach you men how to recognize rank?” He gestured to his nice long robes and golden bands that signified his high status within the Thalmor. “I am Justiciar Elsinire Rulindil! And I  _ demand  _ to speak to whoever is in charge of this mudhole!”

The soldier’s eyes widened as she quickly drew back her bow and saluted while the others around her scrambled to get the other Thalmor. “Sir Rulindil! I apologize, I didn’t realize—”

“Tell me, human, do I look like I care?” Elyden snapped as he ignored his screaming ribs in order to loom over her much more easily. Which wasn’t hard to do as a nearly seven foot elf to do to an average five foot imperial. “I have a ruined uniform, I am  _ late  _ to my assignment, I have no real idea where I am—”

“But—”

“ _ And!”  _ Elyden interrupted her by poking  _ harshly  _ in her soft cheeks with his pointy gloves that smelled of rust. “I am wasting my time speaking to cannon fodder!” 

The soldier managed to not tremble but her eyes refused to meet his and nodded, moving out of the way for the Thalmor. Seems like there are only six elven supremacists here, a medic, two normal soldiers, two mages, and another Justiciar guessing by their variation in uniform and weaponry.

“Justiciar  _ Elsinire  _ Rulindil!” The only other Justiciar grabbed his chin and  _ dug  _ their nails into his bruised cheeks with no real regard for the medic’s wincing expression. “Where in the great Divines’ name have you been? It has been nearly a week!” Their face was calm and professional, but with the slight corner of their lips and narrowing of eyes Elyden could see a furious concern. Alright so from the way they were acting they were Rulindil’s acquaintance, at least knew him well enough to be concerned. Shit.

Elyden rolled his eyes and nudged their fingers out of his face, rubbing it carefully with his hands. “I suppose you haven’t found the ruins of my carriage, then?” He hoped that he acted  _ enough _ like Rulindil, if anything he can excuse it with fatigue and stress.

The Justiciar frowned and crossed their arms. “We have, your body was the only thing missing.” They waved a clear for the medic to check over him, Elyden gave the doctor a suspicious look who muttered something about proud altmer. “From what we assessed from the wreckage, a mine was planted on the road and there was a full scale attack on your carriage.”

Elyden nodded and sighed with appreciation as his swollen eye slowly lost it’s bruises and blinked open as if nothing happened. “Yes, and I gave chase to the bandits, got myself poisoned with magicka draining.” He tried to cast a fire spell to show point, only for it to sputter and he groaned in dramatic embarrassment. Hopefully it wasn’t  _ too  _ dramatic. “But there was no match for me as the nords barely knew how to hold a sword.”

One of the Thalmor Mages snorted. “Expected.” He got shushed by the main Justiciar. 

“They’re nothing but ashes.” Elyden spat in distaste, using the ache of Delphine’s hit to his screaming ribs as fuel. It seemed to have worked as the Justiciar looked at him with a certain kind of pride. “Pity that, I could’ve used them as an example for that prisoner back at Elewen’s fortress.” He gave a small laugh, only to cough as his ribs did  _ not  _ appreciate him daring to do anything except  _ breathe _ .

The Justiciar laughed alongside him. “Well, good to know that you’re okay, Rulindil.” They gestured to pat Elyden on the shoulder only for the medic to snap at him.    


“Ser Coretar, please refrain from any physical contact with Sir Rulindil until I fixed his limp, it seems like he has broken a few ribs from the way he is wheezing.” The medic explained as he poked a hand into a tender spot on Elyden size who got a growl in response. Ah, so that was their name, hopefully they don’t mind being called by their last name all the time. 

“I don’t wheeze.” Elyden grumbled as he tried to straighten his back again only to regret it. “I can heal myself  _ just  _ fine.”

“Right, and I am a bosmer.” Justiciar Coretar rolled their eyes as they pulled off their hood as well. They were a ginger with particularly dark skin to contrast nicely and amber eyes. Nothing too out of the ordinary. But from the way Coretar was acting around him, Elyden assumes that they and Rulindil were  _ good  _ friends instead of acquaintances. Shit. “Get him healed up and send him to Lady Elewen as soon as possible!” They commanded as they gestured for the Thalmor group to follow them into their large tent. 

Elyden said nothing as he followed, his heart pounding out of his chest as he struggled to not look the  _ slightest  _ hint of worried. This spilled too many odd  _ feelings  _ in him, he felt too comfortable as a Thalmor but also extremely uncomfortable. He felt horrible for scarring that Imperial Guard, but he also felt ecstatic to snap at someone into silence. This was all wrong but also so right, his head spinned and heart turned. Was this of when he gives up his life as Elyden and goes back into being…

No not now. He cannot now. He had to  _ focus. _

As he was sat down by the medic, giving just generic answers for the other altmer’s many pressing questions, the looming threat of his illusion spell losing its effect tightened around his already tense throat.. Soon enough he was given the clear and planted on another carriage to get to the Grand Thalmor Embassy of Skyrim as soon as possible.

Elyden tucked up his cloth mask and pulled on his hood, muttering about taking a bit of a nap as Justiciar Coretar sat right across from him, dismissing any soldiers as they assured that they’d be fine. The dragonborn felt some guilt for tricking this Justiciar, pretending to be their dear friend who had escaped death. Even if some voices assured him it should be fine by his standards as they most likely are a horrible racist who slaughters Talos Worshippers for fun. But some voices also stated that according to that logic, Elyden should also be played and used for all that  _ he  _ had done. Elyden said nothing and leaned his head against a window, nearly slouching until he remembered he was in uniform and quickly adjusted himself: back straight, hands placed on lap, head high, and eyes straight. Too instinctual…

Sighing, excusing it for his stress to Justiciar Coretar who offered a calming spell to help in which he politely declined, he stared into his gloved hands. Elyden can almost  _ imagine  _ his fingers twisted around someone’s throat to wring the life out of them, he recounted it  _ too  _ easily. And now back to the present, he still had his palms stained from all of the people he couldn’t save in Winterhold and Helgen. So many dead because of him, directly or not, he was not innocent.

Looking away from his hands and accepting the files about his prisoner, pretending to have paid attention to Justiciar Coretar, he mindlessly skimmed through it. He’ll have plenty of time to read it. As for now, all he had to do was wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Fos los saraan fah, Dovahkiin? : What are you waiting for, Dragonborn? 
> 
> Dreh nii : Do it  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
So my fic is officially a hundred pages...I...HUH
> 
> It's so weird to think about! And I only got here because of my amazing beta reader, @dummydalish from tumblr who is my sunshine and without them this fic would be a hella lot worse! And of course my readers! Thank you to each and every one of you! Without you there wouldn't BE a fic! I love the ones who comment, kudos, and hit on my really dumb fanfiction!
> 
> Thank you all and have a great day! :DD


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry that this took a while, I have been too busy with uni to continue this but this ain't dead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: death, murder, violent thoughts, general angst
> 
> I swear, this story will have a sweet ending!
> 
> Note: Dovahzul translations in the end

“Well, here we are, Rulindil.” Coretar gestured to the snowy plains of the Thalmor Embassy of Skyrim. It was a grand building, looking like an ordinary mansion for a royal family, apparently it was once before the Thalmor ‘borrowed it’. It even still had trimmed bushes of flowers and snowberries in precise spots around the ‘gardens’ to give it that regal look. But it was now fortified with two more towers and enchanted gates that buzzed of electricity and fire that surrounded the entire estate. As well as _ plenty _of guards to go around of all kinds: knights, mages, and archers. It certainly wasn’t a nice little home to hide away in for the holidays anymore, it was a proper fort filled to the brim with highly trained operatives.

Elyden nodded as he easily climbed out of the carriage, tucking his mask even more as bits of the illusion was slowly flaking off into pieces. Good thing the only real skin he is showing is his face that was _ mostly _covered, for now. 

Justiciar Coretar frowned at Elyden. “Rulindil, are you well? You look...sick.” Elyden swayed a bit and leant against the carriage for effect.

“I’m fine.” Elyden assured them as he put a hand to his completely okay head, realizing that some of Rulindil’s skin was peeling off onto his gloves. He quickly tucked his hood even more. 

The Justiciar looked suspicious for a single second before biting their lip in worry. “I forgot you get motion sickness easily.” They patted who they assumed to be their Rulindil as they led him through the gates effortlessly and into the nearest wash rooms. “Do you need me to hold your hair back—”

Elyden waved Coretar off as he stumbled into the bathroom, glad it was void of anyone but him. He quickly got into the nearest stall and stumbled out a scroll, clutching it as he let the magicka pool into his for energy as it transformed him back into Elsinire Rulindil. Two more scrolls left, have to make this quick then. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and rested his hands behind his back as he faced Coretar who beamed at the sight of him. Elyden felt more guilt as Coretar gleefully strolled him through the Embassy and into his office with happy small talk that he struggled to keep up with. He hated how easy it was for Elyden to blend in with the Thalmor, or how easy it was for him to bring others down with his ‘superiority’, or how easy it was for him to consider the goal of the Thalmor as everyday normal life. A conflict of voices in him told him that he always was a horrible person, no matter how much he tries to disguise it with smiles and kindness. That it was just a part of him and that he should accept it before it eventually _ burst _out of him. 

Elyden zoned out completely of his surroundings as Coretar led him to his office with some sort of racist remark that he did not care to remember. Luckily, Coretar left him alone after this, instantly shifting into Thalmor mode with the straightened back and hooded expression as they left the room. Elyden sighed as he closed the door to his office and looked around. It was a modest stone room with several banners of the Aldmeri Dominion that were barren of any crinkles and dust and with a plain desk right in the middle. He instantly went over to the many chests and looked through each one as he snatched a satchel that hanged on the wall among the recently cleaned torture tools. Each significantly important looking journal and document was stuffed away neatly in his small black satchel, but he did not get much consequential info until he got to the main drawers. 

Scurrifying his hand around for said info, he found a handful of journals in one gorgeous handwriting about the Blades. Inside it detailed the Thalmor's knowledge of Delphine, of her full name, her past, her age, and her new life as a Riverwood Inn Keeper. As well as he found more and more Blades who have either died of old age, killed themselves, or got executed by Justiciars. Only one surviving out of the dozens inside was someone named Esbern, their lore keeper who was rumored to be in Riften. And someone in the basement apparently knows where he is…

Before Elyden locked everything back up, a worn down leather book gently fell out of his bag and it bore the symbol of the Stormcloaks. Curiosity got the better of him and he looked through it, his expression turning into a frown as he read through the contents. There were detailed cases of specific missions made to mold Ulfric Stormcloak into his radical self. Of how they played with his mind to lead him to the destruction of Markarth and to the fall of Skyrim. Of how they were using him to make a cast to fill in for a Thalmor liberated Skyrim. Elyden carefully tucked this into his satchel and took off his coat to swing it around his shoulders to hide it from the public. 

As he stood up to go to the basement, one of the soldiers came into the office and knocked on the door’s frame. “Justiciar Rulindil, Ambassador Elenwen requests your presence at the party.” She said simply, leaving before Elyden could respond. He sighed, rubbing his forehead as he _ knew _that he absolutely could not ignore her orders without catching suspicion. So he followed the soldier out to the main building, giving simple nods to the others who greeted him without a second thought. For the few moments he was outside, he realized from the sun’s angle way up in the sky, that he had around forty-ish minutes left before needing another scroll. He just hoped parties became shorter these days.

The party in place was the main hall within the mansion, small but just big enough for the main people. The Jarls of Winterhold and Falkreath were here with their respective housecarls and the High Queen was here as well, she looked a lot less nervous in comparison to the others. Elyden could not tell if that was ignorance or just a ruse to make others think she was just as naive, but maybe he was giving her too much credit. Funny enough, replacing the Jarl of Riften was Maven Black-Briar which was both unsurprising that she’d deal with the Thalmor and astonishing that she had the guts to even speak to the fascists. And Steward Proventus was here instead of Jarl Balgruuf, he looked _ very _uncomfortable but kept himself busy from any forced conversations by nursing a metal goblet of rich ale. The Host of the party was, of course, Ambassador Elenwen who chatted happily with her guests as if there weren't dozens of guards around who with a snap of her fingers will slaughter everyone in the room without a second thought. 

She lazily waved away some royal as she trained her eyes on Elyden and gave her usual charismatic smile. “Justiciar Rulindil, I see that our healers have treated you well.” She frowned slightly as she traced a gloved finger among Elyden’s scaring mark where Delphine sliced an arrow head across his lips and near his left eye. “Well, mostly, by the very least. Nothing makeup can’t fix.” She chuckled sickeningly sweet as she elegantly held up her glass wine glass, the wine itself smelling of juniper and was a gorgeous soft pink. 

Elyden nodded and rested his hands against his back with a smug smile. “Ambassador Elenwen, it is a pleasure seeing you once more.” He bowed slightly, taking her outstretched hand and kissing it lightly before gently letting it go. “You requested my presence?”

Elenwen’s smile faded as the nordic guests left the two alone as she rolled her eyes at them, muttering something about them smelling of Skyrim’s swamps, just quiet enough for them both to hear. “Yes, I figured that after that bandit attack you’d want gossip with the guests, dine with the wonderful music, and discuss business.” 

The Dragonborn tried to _ not _look worried as he physically felt the time ticking down on his illusion spell and just gave a casual shrug. “Sounds divine.” He got a small laugh from that and so he returned it as well. Even with his ruse, he wondered how he could bullshit this conversation? He didn’t know Rulindil besides the notes he was given nor anything more personal about Elenwen so he was on thin ice. 

“Justiciar Rulindil, be a dear and get me a refill will you?” The Ambassador gestured to the plain clothed bosmer tending to the barrels of ridiculously expensive wine and handed him over her empty class that still smelled of sweet berries. 

“Of course, ma’am.” Elyden slightly bowed and spun on his heel as he went over to the bosmer, taking the risk to sigh out his stress and ruffled his hair to wipe some sweat, before realizing it was slowly darkening into his natural black color. He cursed silently to himself, earning a stern glare from an altmer guard as he got to the bar where the bosmer tended to. 

“You’re underplaying ol’ Rulindil a bit.” The bosmer casually said as he slowly poured in the sparkly wine in Elenwen’s glass. “You’re going to blow your cover.”

Elyden nearly had a heart attack as he physically jumped. Getting a Look from the bosmer he contained himself and leaned his palms against the table. “E-Excuse me…?” His blood erratically pumped anxiety into his veins as he processed those words over and over. 

The bosmer looked equally confused and frowned slightly. Before opening his mouth to speak, he made sure to send a nearby soldier away to get some fine cheese from the kitchen who groaned at the request but did it without question. “We have a mutual friend from Riverwood, she sent me to help.” 

Elyden visibly relaxed as his heart stilled, alright, so he just forgot or something...Maybe it was in the notes and he skipped it. “Apologies, and your name is…?”

“Malborn, just tell me when and I’ll help you escape, got it?” He got a nod. “Good, now give this to Elenwen, she loves shrimp.” The bosmer gestured to the Ambassador who got impatient and was striding towards the two, so he handed the silver platter full of pink shrimp and the glass of wine over to Elyden and went back to cleaning the bar table. 

Elyden nodded and faced Ambassador Elenwen who looked like she was slowly losing her patience with the two but it all melted away once she saw the shrimp. Her expression was squandered of any politeness as she crossed her arms and bared a bit of her teeth. “I thought you were highly allergic to shrimp, _ Rulindil. _”

Malborn audibly cursed behind him as Elyden’s ears lowered behind his hood. “I-I am.” This was not helping his case as flakes of his fake skin showed the real person underneath. Elenwen’s face paled and gestured over for the guards who slowly inched their blades up to his neck. The party drew into a silence as Elyden sighed and willed himself to think about this. He _ will _get out of this alive, just need a plan...

“Now, why don’t we—” 

A crossbolt whizzed through the air and landed itself deadshot between a soldier’s eyes before Elenwen could finish. Taking the moment of panic, Elyden drew in a breath and Shouted: 

“Fus, Ro _ DAH _!” 

The guards were flung across the room with a scream and a crunch of their bones. “The Dragonborn is here! _ Capture _ him!” Elenwen just barely dodged the Shout as she drew out her blades. 

Elyden turned Ethereal and leaped behind Malborn’s bar who was busy reloading his mini crossbow. “Got any ideas?” He tore out his dagger then casted ebony flesh both upon himself and the bosmer, not caring that it sucked up the majority of his magic. 

“No, not really!” Malborn dared to glance back up, taking another shot at the Thalmor and quickly went back down with his eyes wide and ears pressed against his head. “They’re casting a mass paralyzing spell.”

“Shit.” Elyden glanced around the area around them, finding several barrels of rum that were held in place with a thick chain. “Cover me, I got an idea.” 

Using his Ethereal Shout to dispel the flings of miniature paralyzing spells and fire bolts, he took out his remaining scrolls and set them on fire with the torches nearby. He quickly stuffed them into the rum barrels which cast on fire and then broke the chain’s lock. Elyden snatched Malborn behind a pillar as the flaming barrels tumbled over unsuspecting people and caught the tapestries on fire. 

“Come on, I know a way out!” Malborn grabbed Elyden’s wrist and ran through the kitchen, shooting his crossbow at any startled Thalmor and Elyden’s firebolts at any mages. That is until they got into the cold outside, in which Elyden had to shove Malborn back from a flaming ball of fire from the towers. 

Malborn tried to get a shot at the towers but had to hide behind the walls each time before more spurs of magic nearly turned him into dust or paralyzed him. “We need to get to the basement, there is an exit through the body dump.” 

Elyden felt a tingle from his souls within and quickly spun around to block a conjured sword from slicing him into pieces with his dagger. The golden soldier used their other hand to punch Elyden to the ground, kicking him into his healed ribs and cursing in their mother language. 

“Tiid, _ KLO! _” Time slowed down for Elyden, the snarling expression of the Thalmor burning into his mind as they slowly pulled out a scroll of paralyzing. His eyes automatically pin-pointed to their exposed belly that was only covered with a leather plate. Without a second to waste, he thrusted his blade past the leather and into their guts, his draconic blood lust quickening with glee as blood spilled into his gloves and across his dagger. 

Time snapped back to reality and Elyden tossed aside the Thalmor, looking up to the stone towers that were full of archers and mages. Malborn next to him cursed about having only a handful of bolts left and snagged the dead soldier’s scrolls of magic. 

“FUS, RO, _ DAH!” _He Shouted at the Towers, flinging off the obstacles like flies as the rest quickly went inside the main building to tend to the growing fire. Elyden tugged Malborn with him as they both ran into the basement, kicking down the locked door and slaughtering any unaware Thalmor underneath. 

Malborn tended to the horribly skinny young breton who was chained up against the wall as Elyden dealt with the hidden hatch to the caves below. His frustration only increased once the lock refused to bulge and nearly took to just simply melting it with his flames until the souls within him said: 

_ “Rip it out, Dovahkiin!” _

He nearly yelled out loud at them to shut the fuck up with their remarks but he tried anyway, new found strength pulsing in his veins as he easily tore out the lock and along with the hatch door out from the stone. Elyden hurled it aside with a snarl and glanced over to Malborn who looked impressed while the prisoner looked horrified. “Stop staring, and get _ inside _!” He shouted at the two, his teeth bore and lungs begging for air.

_ “Told you so.” _

Malborn carefully put the prisoner through the hatch and glanced at the door that they blocked with heavy barrels that was slowly being hacked open with war axes. “Slow them down!” The bosmer jumped in after the prisoner as Elyden was left alone. 

The words of Fire Breath stood on the tip of his tongue as he glanced around the extremely wooden basement. He cast several bolts at the wooden planks above him until they fully caught on fire, the heat bearing down on his sweaty skin and bruised body as the lumber turned into charcoal and collapsed around him. Elyden jumped into the hatch before one fell on his head and blocked off the entrance for good.

His breath turned into puffy dragons as he jogged through the ice tunnels that smelt of old and new blood. The light shined brighter on his eyes as the tunnel opened up into a large cave where Malborn stood, protecting the shaking prisoner from a dead frost troll that was covered with crossbolts. The bosmer looked up at the altmer and waved to him. “Come on, we need to leave before they seal off this place too.” 

Elyden nodded in agreement and jumped down to walk alongside them, his boiling blood stilling to a halt as they stepped into the cold outsides and the Embassy above them fully in flames. Malborn gestured them over to a hidden path that took them through the frozen woods and slowly into the warm territories of Solitude. The Embassy slowly faded behind the tall trees and the screams disappeared into the mountain air, they were safe.

  
“S-So, you’re The Dragonborn?” The breton shivered as he looked up at Elyden with uncertainty in his eyes. 

“Yeah...name’s Elyden.” He looked down at the young man with sympathy, his brown hair was overgrown and patchy from misuse. His body was full of bruises and his ribs were so visible that Elyden could count them individually. The altmer took off his main coat and covered the breton who quickly wrapped himself in it, giving a quiet thank you. “And you are…?”

“Etienne, Etienne Rarnis of Riften.” The breton muttered as Malborn kept him stable as he nearly slipped on a rock and off the cliffs above the Blue Palace. “I cannot thank you two enough for getting me out of there, but _ why _were you there? I know it’s not for ol’ me.” He gave a sad laugh before it turned into a violent cough. 

Elyden frowned and looked at Malborn for permission who gave him a nod in response. “We were getting some intel on the remaining Blades.” He simply said, keeping a protective hand over the satchel that he kept slung over his shoulder. “Speaking of which, why were _ you _imprisoned?” 

The breton’s face turned paler than it already was and looked away, shivering and choking back a sob as he struggled to remain calm. Malborn looked behind him to see what’s the commotion and went back to Etienne’s side who gently pushed him away. 

“I’m sorry if I triggered you, I didn’t consider—”

“It’s fine.” Etinenne interrupted as he leaned against a tree to catch his strength, which Malborn allowed as he said that they were far away enough from any military camp to take a break. “I...I was captured because they thought I knew where an ‘Esbern’ was.” 

Elyden rose a brow in confusion and searched through his satchel to pull out documents about said Esbern, skimming through the fine pages. “It says here that he is in the sewers of Riften, so why…?”

“That’s what I told them!” Etinenne cried out, gripping onto his hair as his breaths turned into shallow ones, practically panting as he squeezed his legs together and slid against the tree. Malborn caught him from falling into the freezing cold snow. “But they didn’t believe me when I didn’t give specific details! So they beat me, starved me, _ tortured _me—!” He broke into heavy sobs as he leaned against an awkward but supportive Malborn who patted him on the back as the breton heaved for breath. 

Elyden’ ears lowered in sympathy and pulled out his water flask that was full of his usual herbs, offering it to Etinenne. “Drink it, it has weak herbs in it.” Poor kid, he wanted to give him a hug but he didn’t know how that’d help from a stranger.

The breton happily took it and gulped it down slowly, his cracked lips healed and his bruises lost their purple pigment. He shuddered and coughed, slowly calming down as he rehydrated himself and nodded in thanks to the two elves. “I owe you two my life.” He held onto the flask to warm his hands, Elyden had enchanted it to work as a thermos.

“You don’t owe us anything.” Elyden replied as he took to sitting down on a stone nearby, seemingly not at all affected by the cold like the rest were. “Hopefully Delphine won’t mind us having you over for a bit.” 

“Speaking of Delphine,” Malborn looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t she give you notes or something?” 

“Uh, yeah, she did, why?”

“Well, can you check to make sure she _ didn’t _ forget that I exist this time.” Malborn asked a bit _ too _casually for the glare he was giving him. Elyden sifted a bit in his spot and looked through the small notes that the Blade gave him, frowning as he skimmed through it a second time. Then a third with the gaze of Malborn on him, and on the fourth time he put down his notes and gave an awkward shrug. 

“She didn’t mention you…” Elyden revealed as he pinched his neck in worry, strange, he thought that someone as meticulous as Delphine would at least mention that he’d be getting help from an insider. 

“Of course she didn’t! Why should I expect _ anything _ different?!” Malborn outburst with a snarl, kicking aside a rock that tumbled through the snow woods. “She keeps on forgetting that I am risking my neck for _ her _ sake! And I bet I won’t even get any compensation for it despite the Thalmor knowing _ my _face!” 

Etinenne carefully scotted out of Malborn’s way as the bosmer began his rant on how tired he was of the Blades, how the Thalmor treated him better, how he misses his family after _ losing _ them to said Thalmor, and of how done he was of the stupid war and that he wanted to move to Morrowind. “But I _ can’t _because my face is fucking ingrained in their heads now!” He concluded as he continued to vent by hurling stones down the hill they were on. 

Elyden went over to him and hesitantly offered a hand. “Are you okay with me patting you on the back, Malborn?” 

The bosmer sighed and tried to smooth out his hair. “Yeah, sure…” He visibly relaxed as Elyden gave him a nice back rub to try to comfort him. “I appreciate it, Dragonborn…” 

“No problem.” Elyden looked to Etinenne to make sure he didn’t suddenly freeze to death but the breton was looking a bit better after warning his hands on the flask. “Say, why don’t you go to the face changer?” He got a look of confusion and concern so he quickly put his hands up in defense. “I’m trans, _ not _a criminal.” Malborn’s expression instantly relaxed. “Seriously though, why don’t you just by the very least demand Delphine pay for your face change...ment?” 

Malborn face twisted to one of conflict and decided to gaze out into the still winter forest instead. “Yeah, but, I don’t want to completely change my life.” 

Elyden felt sympathy for the man, relating quite a bit to his dilemma. He remembered having this exact conversation with his older sister who encouraged him to start over and to run from the Thalmor. It was the last time he had ever seen his sister before she too ran off with a new name and body with her newly wed wife. “Well, just change your appearance enough to not be instantly recognizable. But, that is just a suggestion, it’s your life, not mine.” Malborn gave a hum as response and tucked his hands into the pockets of his thick pants. “Oh, and, I appreciate you helping me back there. You did save my skin.” 

“It’s my job.” Malborn said with a small, but sad, laugh before shrugging off Elyden’s touch and spinned on his heel to look at the altmer and the breton. “Well, let’s get going before it gets too dark.” 

Etinenne nodded in agreement, already looking a bit better after draining Elyden’s herbal flask, and politely declined a health potion as he said he wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Elyden did’t blame him, health potions taste absolutely _ disgusting _considering the ingredients in them. After that was said and done, they silently moved through the woods towards that old hunter’s hut that Delphine has claimed as hers. They had to hide a few times from some Imperial and Stormcloak patrols, there were a few close calls but nothing of worth to remember. Eventually through the harsh terrain and with the assistance of the thick woods, the group finally made it to the small hunter’s shack. 

Once again, Delphine shot an arrow right next to Elyden’s ear which still made him jump and Enthir scolded her with a grin about how her aim sucks. Elyden sighed and plucked the arrow out from the tree behind him and gave Etinenne a head ruffle to try to reassure him that Delphine won’t murder him. The look of uncomfortableness the breton gave him made Elyden apologize profusely for invading his personal space and awkwardly tucked his hands in his pockets. 

“Delphine, we need to talk.” Malborn firmly said as he approached the Blade with no fear in his face. Enthir instantly stepped back, and awkwardly walked over to Elyden, stating that he looked good in uniform and he got a half-hearted thanks in return. 

“Malborn?” Delphine looked at him with surprise as she put down her bow, approaching him as if the breton wasn’t absolutely furious. “What happened? Why is the Embassy burning?”

“We forgot about the shrimp.” Elyden sighed with embarrassment as he rubbed the middle of his brow while Enthir looked up at him in confusion. For the rest of his life, he will forever carry with him that he was nearly paralyzed and experimented on by the Thalmor from forgetting that the person he was impersonating was highly allergic to shrimp. It was quite amazing really, of how his life came to be with him nearly dying from damned _ shrimp _. 

“Of course—”

“At least he didn’t forget about the _ person _ who was risking his life for this fucking mission of yours!” Malborn snapped as he snarled and thrust his crossbow _ right _into the Blade’s ribs.

Delphine stared at the tip of the bolt that was seconds away from tearing a hole from her lungs and gave the bosmer a cold look. In that instant, she _ looked _ like a true Blade: slow fire burned in her eyes like when she slaughtered the dragon back in Kynesgrove, she centered her gaze over the shorter elf below him for any weak points and kept a hand on her sharpened steel sword. Delphine was truly trained to be a soldier, and Elyden felt _ very _afraid of the Dragon Hunter, the dragons in him agreed and shared plans of the best way to devour her flesh before it was too late. He was starting to listen to them.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Malborn?” Delphine simply asked as she drew her sword out and pointed it at Malborn’s bare throat who looked at it like it was the most vile thing ever. Enthir cast ebony flesh on himself and prepared calming spells in case anything happened, Elyden just watched with a slight morbid interest and made sure to stand in the way of Etienne who looked absolutely terrified. 

“Oh ho ho ho~,” Malborn gave a dry laugh as he jammed his mini crossbow _ right _ into Delphine, just enough to bruise as he played with the buzzing beehive that was Delphine’s patience. “I have been cooped up in that gods-forsaken Embassy of theirs for nearly a _ decade _, Delphine. I have been feeding you intel even before I could write in common and I didn’t even get much of a thank you!” 

“Malborn, it was just a mistake—”

“This isn't the first time, Delphine!” He interrupted as he carelessly hurled his hands in the air to vent out his anger _ without _ murdering someone in cold blood. Before the Blade could respond, Malborn stood on his heels and thrust his fingers into his chest for each point: “You have forgotten about me when you sent an undercover operative to a party, you have nearly left me for _ dead _ in a ditch after a Thalmor meeting went wrong, _ and _ you have referred me to your buddy Blade pals as an _ asset! _” 

Elyden’s hairs strung up as he watched for a _ sliver _of guilt in Delphine’s body language, he saw only slight indifference. He looked to Enthir who had the same expression, though his friend had known Delphine for much longer than he; maybe he was accustomed to her ways. The altmer instead felt that primal fear twist in his heart from the panicking cries of the dovah trapped inside him. 

Du Ek!

Krii Ek!

Faas Ek!

Shut up...

Du Ek!

Krii Ek!

Faas Ek!

Give me silence, please…!

_ Du Ek! _

_ Krii Ek! _

_ Faas Ek! _

By Akatosh and Auri-El above, shut up!

**Du Ek!**

**Krii Ek!**

**Faas Ek!**

Elyden felt a hard tug on his sleeve as Enthir also snapped his fingers in front of his ears, getting a confused look as a pounding headache instilled from the increasing volume of panic within his mind. Enthir opened his mouth to speak but the quick yelp of Malborn’s voice and the gurgling of warm blood drew the elves attention towards Delphine, who held the bosmer’s body still as she drew her blade out of his gut like melted butter. Loosening her clutch on Malborn’s shoulder, she let him slide out of her sword and collapse into a pool of his own blood with a heavy floop. His expression frozen in anger as he hadn’t had the time to react to his demise. 

**Du Ek!**

**Krii Ek!**

**Faas Ek!**

**Du Ek!!!**

**Krii Ek!!!**

**Faas Ek!!!**

**DU EK!!!**

**KRII EK!!!**

**FAAS EK!!!**

Elyden instantly tore out his sword as heavy blood pumped through his veins, his arms shook and his logic quivered under the weight of the horrific memories of dying by the Blades’ hands. There were too quick to comprehend as his headache worsened from the fear-struck cries that ringed in his thoughts like a bell.

Delphine frowned and casually cleaned her sword of any blood to not get rust. “He was a danger to our mission at hand, Dragonborn.” She simply said as she stepped over Malborn’s body as if he was _ nothing. _As if that bosmer was nothing more than a broken tool to her needs. As if he was just as relevant to her as the dirt underneath her feet.

“Delphine, what in the actual fuck!?” Enthir looked at her with pure disgust as he held onto his staff like a spear and narrowed his eyes at her as if she was just a stranger. “You just _ murdered _someone!” 

The breton tilted her head in confusion and scoffed. “Hypocrite, _ you _kill people all the time! It’s just tying up loose ends, Malborn was angry and overly emotional and would’ve ratted us out the second the moment arose—”

“_ You don’t know that!” _ Elyden interrupted as he stepped in front of Etienne who caught the cold look of Delphine. He put an arm in front of the young man as if to shield him and activated the flame enchantment in his short sword. It burst with bright light as he carefully channeled the magicka in the engravings to keep a steady fire. “If you _ dare _ try to do the same with him, I _ will _tear out your intestines and devour your heart!” He hissed as he felt a continuous flow of euphoric power bend to his will from the souls within, his teeth bared and poise ready to keep his word. 

His head was filled to the brim with detailed memories of dovah turning into gorey piles of bones and guts from the brutal hands of the Blades, memories of the skull that hands in Winterhold and Whiterun’s Halls, memories of being hunted down like _ prey. _And so Elyden bore his teeth that ached as they grew into proper fangs, his ears arched back and eyes slitted as all of his adrenaline and attention was focused on the remaining Blade who stood over an innocent man’s forgotten body.

Delphine and Enthir _ instantly _ backed off, Enthir tossing aside his staff as he held up his hands as he looked _ genuinely _terrified of Elyden. The breton woman kept her sword up but also kept a healthy distance from the Dragonborn, her eyes narrowed with thought as she took in the terrain of the forest around them and watched for the weak points in Elyden’s shaking body that was not fit for the souls within that threatened to burst out.

** _DU NIIN!_ **

** _KRII NIIN!_ **

** **

** _FAAS NIIN!_ **

“Elyden, hey, look, I’m here…” Enthir tried to distract him with a wry smile as he carefully approached his lanky friend. But Elyden snapped his attention towards him, his ears deafened by the pounding of his heart and the screams of the dovah he devoured. 

_ Du Mok! _

_ Krii Mok! _

_ Faas Mok! _

“Touch me, or Etienne, and you’re _ dead.” _ Elyden spat out as he backed up into Etienne who was shivering up in pure terror as his teeth clattered and his thoughts spewed out nonsense. Despite Elyden’s words, he did _ not _ pay any attention to the young man behind him, it was _ all _ focused on Delphine who was looking over him like _ prey. _ “I will not let _ her _ touch us with her vile Blade!” Despite never seeing it, intense memories of the curved katana that sliced through scales like butter and tore into muscle like water. He remembered the _ burn _that melted his bones and the ones who ignored his screams for mercy. He remembered the plated armor that stood over his struggling corpse with the same expression that Delphine wore. 

**KRII EK US REK KRII MII! **

**GEH, KRII! **

**LUV EE ORAAN! **

**NAAK EK SLEN FAH MUL!**

“Elyden...” Enthir gently cooed as he drew in closer to Elyden’s personal space, his beautiful green tunic slowly turning singed from the intense heat of the flaming sword that was waved towards him as a warning. “I am your friend, you can tell me anything, remember?” He ignored the enchanted blade and breached Elyden’s circle of ancient cursing and blind fear, he got a yard away and stopped. Enthir looked wry, terrified, smug, fake, and gentle all at the same time, it was too dangerous for the minds of Elyden who snarled out infinite warnings for the elf. “What’s wrong…?”

_ He is fake, he is fake, he is lying, he is fake, he wants to hurt you, he doesn't care about you, he will hurt you, he knows you're a coward, he is fake, he wants you dead, he wants to kill you, he wants you gone, he wants you dead, he wants you gone, he is fake, he doesn't care about you, this is fake, he wants your head, he wants your Voice, he wants your skull, he wants your bones, he wants your tongue, he is fake, he is lying, he thinks you're a coward, he wants to kill you, he wants you gone, he wants you dead, he wants you gone, he is fake, he is lying, he is fake, he wants to hurt you, he doesn't care about you, he will hurt you, he knows you're a coward, he is fake, he wants you dead, he wants to kill you, he wants you gone, he wants you dead, he wants you gone, he is fake, he doesn't care about you, this is fake, he wants your head, he wants your Voice, he wants your skull, he wants your bones, he wants your tongue, he is fake, he is lying, he thinks you're a coward, he wants to kill you, he wants you gone, he wants you dead, he wants you gone, _ ** _he is fake, he doesn't care about you, this is fake, he wants your head, he wants your Voice, he wants your skull, he wants your bones, he wants your tongue, he is fake, he is lying, he thinks you're a coward, He is fake, he is fake, he is lying, he is fake, he wants to hurt you, he doesn't care about you, he will hurt you, he knows you're a coward, he is fake, he wants you dead, he wants to kill you, he wants you gone, he wants you dead, he wants you gone, he is fake, he doesn't care about you, this is fake, he wants your head, he wants your Voice, he wants your skull, he wants your bones, he wants your tongue, he is fake, he is lying, he thinks you're a coward, he wants to kill you, he is fake, he doesn't care about you, this is fake, he wants your head, he wants your Voice, he wants your skull, he wants your bones, he wants your tongue, he is fake, he is lying, he thinks you're a coward, He is fake, he is fake, he is lying, he is fake, he wants to hurt you, he doesn't care about you, he will hurt you, he knows you're a coward, he is fake, he wants you dead, he wants to kill you, he wants you gone, he wants you dead, he wants you gone, he is fake, he doesn't care about you, this is fake, he wants your head, he wants your Voice, he wants your skull, he wants your bones, he wants your tongue, he is fake, he is lying, he thinks you're a coward, he wants to kill you, _ **

A warm hand touches Elyden’s cheeks as a sickening overwhelming truck of _ guilt _crashes into Elyden’s lungs. He blinked out his dry eyes that were wet and slowly looked down to see Enthir rubbing his cheeks, his right arm badly burnt from his dimming sword and eyes quivering with fear but expression warm as his touch. Elyden stole a heavy gulp of air as his head felt light and his legs weak, swaying from where he stood that eventually gave out.

“Hey, it’s okay...” Enthir whispered as he caught the lanky elf on top of him, cradling his head against his as he rubbed his back. “I know you didn’t mean too…” He said sweet nothings to Elyden who desperately tried to grab back into reality that was slipping from his calloused hands.

Elyden’s sword felt too heavy so he let it clank to the floor, his heart slowly steadying itself as Delphine turned into a dull image in his exhausted brain. He drowserely tried to steady himself against Enthir’s much shorter body, scrambling to connect all of the pieces together and to keep in control of his weak body. “M-Malborn…?” He sleepily looked down at the blurry pile of dull red, blinking his heavy lids to get a clearer image and _ immediately _regretted it. Bursts of memories skewered into his recollections as he remembered the argument, the murder, and the reactions. 

The Dragonborn’s breath stilled as he gripped onto Enthir’s back a bit _ too _hard, he could feel his nails from the Thalmor gloves puncture into his friend’s skin and the trinkles of blood. “Where’s Etienne?” He loudly whispered as his eyes refused to leave the agape expression of Malborn’s corpse. 

“He ran off towards Solitude, he should be fine.” Delphine's voice slithered into Elyden’s ears as his blood hitched from terror that slowly melted into rage then into a dull sense. “Elyden, what _ happened _there?” She looked strangely calm after all of that, but Elyden was quite sure that he saw a hint of unnerving distrust within the woman’s face. 

Elyden slowly let go of Enthir but still kept him close for that warm comfort, the bosmer seemed to not mind at all, as he carefully picked back his black hairs that stuck to his face unconsciously. “I-I panicked...I lost control and...I _ really _don’t want to talk about it.” He managed to mumble out before his skin felt like it was going to shake out of its place on his ill-fitting body and the voices whispered nonsense into his ears. His throat clenched as he nearly cried from the crushing feeling of control carefully being pulled from his grasp.

“Elyden, you threatened to eat me.” Delphine firmly said as she went over to the hut, keeping an eye on the two elves the whole time, and pulled out Elyden’s bag of belongings as a bargaining chip. “What went _ wrong?” _

Ears lowered and pressed against his ears, Elyden whimpered and looked at _ anything _ but Enthir and Delphine as the distinct taste of copper filled his mouth. He knew he didn’t bite anything inside his mouth, but he got kindly reminded that it was the memory of blood filling his maw. His teeth clattered and bit his nails as he tried to process the words that were escaping his tongue. “Lost, I-shit-I...I—” He took a deep breath as he gently drew himself away from Enthir before he became too bearing on as usual, trying his best to look professional and as altmer as possible: precise, perfect, unemotional, and logical. “I lost control and became overwhelmed, I am still learning how to handle the souls in me.” Elyden did not mention the fact that he was _ still _fantasizing the look of Delphine’s insides after he melts her skin off with his flame, nor of the fact that his blood turned to ice looking at the sword that she still kept a grip on. 

Delphine and Enthir had a variety of worries in their expressions that only made Elyden’s heart pump as guilty thoughts filled his head of their dimeses from _ his _ hands. He did not notice when Delphine tossed him his bag of items, but he did not care as he instantly hid behind a pile of stones and trees to shed his skin of the Thalmor clothing. It clung to his skin _ too _easily and his head spun from the conflicting emotions of glee and guilt once he tossed the officer’s clothing to the side. 

“Has he done this before?” Delphine’s voice wasn’t hushed enough for Elyden’s elven ears to hear, so he tuned in despite the rudeness and the sinking feeling of dread.

“He used to be a bounty hunter, though I haven’t seen him _ this _violent ever since he got in a shuffle with a Thalmor Agent in the college.” Enthir casually said as if he wasn’t there to witness Ancano accusing Elyden of treason and attempting to arrest him, tearing off his earrings and breaking a few teeth in the process. “But the Thalmor attacked first, so it’s fiiiiiiiiine.”

“Enthir, I am being serious.”

“I know—”

“No, you _ don’t.” _ Delphine firmly said as Elyden paused in his dressing to tune in more properly to the Blade’s words. “I know he is your friend or whatever, but he was ready to _ slaughter _ us just because I tied up a loose end.” The clinking of metal was heard as Elyden put on his wooden necklace and amulets of faith, trying to _ not _imagine Delphine approaching him in order to tie up more loose ends. His hands shook too much as the voices chanted in his ears of their worries and fears, he waved them off a bit easier now as he struggled to button up his white linen shirt. 

“He _ does _ have dragons in his head, you know.” Enthir casually defended as the sound of his leather boots followed after Delphine’s more lighter steps around the camp. “I am _ more _than certain that he can control them, why else would he be chosen as Dragonborn if he can’t handle it?” 

Elyden didn’t catch Delphine’s response as she muttered it too quietly for him to hear but from Enthir’s sigh he wasn’t sure of how good it was. The altmer adjusted his belt and stepped out to give them an awkward wave, acting as if he didn’t just overhear their words. He was glad to have Enthir defending him, though he also felt _ terrified _of breaking Enthir’s trust and bones by giving in once again. 

“Are you okay in there?” Delphine gestured to Elyden’s entire self, looking at him more and more like a separate entity. “We can wait until you get yourself...sorted.” She tried to soften her posture by uncrossing her arms and loosening her shoulders, Enthir gave an encouraging thumbs up. 

“No, I’m fine, thank you, I appreciate it.” Elyden gave a wry smile as he held up his hands in defense to show that he wasn’t armed. Then, feeling both of their eyes trail after his movements, he took off his satchel that was the whole purpose of the entire ordeal and tossed it to the two. 

Delphine caught it easily and gave a quick thanks as she looked through the documents as the group slowly began to settle down their tensions. Elyden helped Enthir clean up around the camp after the whole ordeal, and told him that the Blade turned Rulindil to the Stormcloaks for a bounty while he was gone. The altmer joked that it was to pay off Enthir’s expensive scrolls in which he got a dry laugh and a grin from. It was still awkward and tense around him, Elyden didn’t blame them, but he also didn’t like Delphine’s deepening frown as she read through the files. He just hoped that Riverwood was okay without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Du : Devour
> 
> Krii : Kill
> 
> Faas: Fear
> 
> Ek : Her
> 
> Niin : Them
> 
> Mok : Him
> 
> KRII EK US REK KRII MII :KILL HER BEFORE SHE KILLS US!
> 
> GEH, KRII : YES, KILL!
> 
> LUV EE ORAAN : TEAR HER APART!
> 
> NAAK EK SLEN FAH MUL : EAT HER FLESH FOR STRENGTH!


End file.
